Genesis
by Marowren
Summary: When Maximum Ride's mom decides to drop everything and hightail it out of Arizona to start a new job, dragging her two daughters with her, Max and her half-sister Ella are forced to start over again. New school, new friends, new loves. A fresh start... What could be wrong with that? From Max's point of view, everything. FAX, EGGY. AU, AH. My own OC's from Flee.
1. Chapter 1

"MAX!"

I groaned, shutting my laptop. "What?"

Instead of receiving a response, I heard footsteps on the stairs. Ella appeared at my bedroom door, hands on hips, long brown hair clasped in a high ponytail that was still swinging from her trek up the stairs. I frowned, putting a hand up to my own hair, also brown but not anything like Ella's. Oh, yeah, sorry that I don't want to spend 2 hours every day running a heated…um, stick over every last strand of hair on my head. Let's just say that I misplaced my brush a few days ago and was too lazy to find a replacement. I have stuff to do. Soccer practice. _Stuff. _Forgive me for having my priorities straight.

"It's time to go." Ella said, giving me a look. It was a strange mixture of sympathy and some other emotion that I will probably never identify. I'm definitely not empathic.

"Yeah, okay. Tell Mom to hang on a sec." She rolled her eyes.

"You said that 15 minutes ago."

I grinned. "But this time I really mean it."

She stuck out her tongue and left, but not before snagging a chocolate chip cookie from the plate on my dresser. I glared at her retreating back, but didn't say anything. That may have something to do with how I had been stealing from her "secret" chocolate stash, but who knows? Anyway, fair's fair.

That didn't mean I was gonna quit the chocolate thing, though.

…

10 minutes later found me giving my empty room one last glance before grabbing my laptop and the empty plate from my dresser. I stepped across the threshold that led into my room, the room that had been mine for 9 years. I didn't look back.


	2. Chapter 2

"Let's blow this popsicle stand." I said, slamming the passenger side door of the van we had rented.

"_Finally,_" Ella said. "I thought we were never gonna leave."

"Yes, Max, you took so long I was beginning to think you had decided not to come." My mom teased. I rolled my eyes but smiled at her. We both knew I had no choice.

So here's the deal. I'm Max. Maximum Ride. I'm 15 years old. I don't have a favorite color. Just in case it was in your head to ask me.

And until _recently, _I had lived in Tucson, Arizona, in a small but cozy house on a quiet street, with my mother and half-sister, Ella.

Okay, I'm done with all this introductory stuff, so let me give you a piece of advice. If your mom sits you and your sister down in the living room, hands you a plate of warm cookies, and says, "There's something I need to talk to you about, girls," … RUN AWAY. I mean it. Whatever happens, do NOT let her have that chat. Because I'm gonna tell you, the outcome isn't pretty.

Three weeks after The Talk, my mom had found a small office to operate her own business in (she's a veterinarian) in freaking _CALIFORNIA. _And about 20 blocks away, our new house. One month later there I was, sitting in the passenger seat of a large white moving van with my cheek pressed up against the window, watching our old neighborhood roll by.

I thought about my old friends and what they were probably doing at that very moment. Aurelia was probably at soccer practice, along with Jessie and Cass. My old team mates. Did Californians even play soccer? I made a mental note to ask Ella. Knowing her, she had probably researched the entire history of whatever city we were heading to. I blinked back tears and scrunched my stupid stinging nose, because I don't do crying. I just _don't. _Call it a fatal flaw, whatever you want. I'll just remind you of that when it saves my dignity for the millionth time and breezes by yours.

"So, where are we going again?" I asked the general vicinity (the car), still scrunching my nose.

"California, Duh Brain." Ella said from the backseat. I rolled my eyes.

"I _know _that, Ells. I mean what _city._"

This time, it was my mom who replied. "Los Angeles."


	3. Chapter 3

"_She looks so perfect standing there, in my American Apparel underwear…" _I slammed my hand down onto the power button of the car radio, cutting off Five Seconds of…whatever, as well as Ella's exuberant (though not terrible) singing. We had been on the road for only an hour, and I was already getting a headache.

"That," I said firmly, "Is quite enough of _that._"

"Max! That's not a bad song, you just need to get used to it!" Ella stuck her head through the gap between Mom's and my seats and attempted to stab the on button with a vengeful finger. I grabbed her wrist before she could get to it and covered the button with my right hand.

"No way, no how, compadre," I replied. "I have had the misfortune to be forced to 'get used to it' _six times. _And I think Mom will agree that I've been a surprisingly good sport."

"It's not hard for people to agree that you've been a good sport, Maxie-poo. All _you _have to do is refrain from punching people."

"Must be 'cause I'm so special," I said airily.

"Oh, you're _special _all right. Remember—"

"Girls," Mom interrupted. Ella stopped talking. I sighed in mock enjoyment.

"_Ahhh. _Peace and quiet."

"Shut up, Max."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi there. I have a sort-of schedule now. Updates will come every Saturday, for sure. There might be one or two in the middle of the week this next week 'cause it's Spring Break. Thank Nuggan! Reviewww! :D**

**And enjoy ;)**

"Max, wake up," I heard someone say distantly. "Max, seriously. I know you're awake." I felt my leg move, and heard the same voice, but louder. "OUCH! Max! Get up, you goober! MOM! Max won't get up!" I opened one eye, and was met with…another eye.

"Aah!" I yelled, and Ella rolled her eyes, straightening up from where she had startled me. "What the heck, Ells! Your nose was practically in my eye!"

"Well, you kicked me!" She said indignantly.

"Well, you woke me up!" I mocked her. She glared at me. "Hey, why _did _you wake me up?"

"Maybe if you opened both your eyes, I wouldn't have to spell everything out for you." Ella had opened the passenger side door of the van and was peering in, arms crossed. I still had my seatbelt on, and discreetly wiped away a bit of drool from my chin with the sleeve of my hoodie.

I pried the other eye open and looked past Ella. And boy, what I saw was not what I had expected. I turned back to my sister, making my eyes huge. Hoping I looked alarmed, I said, "Ells. There's something I think you should know." She looked taken aback.

"What?"

I widened my eyes even further and prayed that my eyelids had a good grip on them.

"I don't think we're in Tucson anymore."

She made a face at me, sticking out her tongue.

"Careful, Elly-Belly. If the wind changes your face will stick like that."

"What wind?" Huh. She was right. There wasn't any. It was really nice outside: a blue sky, a few fluffy clouds…my glaring sister…

Just then, Mom came out of a small office building about three doors down from where the car was parked. "Glad to see you're awake, Max."

"I knew you would be," I yawned. "So what now? Do we get to see our new abode?"

"Yep," My mom replied. "I just had to finish some extra paperwork at the office. We're good to go."

"Well, then," Ella said, voicing my thoughts, "What are we waiting for?"

"Dibs on first pick!" I whooped, slamming the door of the van and sprinting towards the new house. It was beige, and really big. Too big for the three of us, but I wasn't complaining.

"No fair!" Ella howled from somewhere behind me. "I didn't even have my seatbelt unbuckled yet!"

"You snooze, you lose!" I hollered back. I raced up the driveway and rammed the key Mom had given me into the front door's lock. It turned, and I found myself standing in the largest entryway I had ever been in. To my right was a long, _long _staircase, and to my left, a hallway. "Jeez," I murmured; a loud voice seemed like it would echo forever. Panting, Ella arrived at the front door. She took a step inside and immediately stopped.

"Wow," She said quietly. "This is crazy."

"I know," I replied, matching her tone. Then, remembering what I was here for in the first place, I gave a loud whoop and began to dash up the stairs.

"Max, chill! You win, okay? There's no way I'm racing you up all those stairs," Ella called after me.

"You just don't want to race 'cause you know you'll lose!" I shouted back down. She yelled something back but I didn't hear it. I was standing in the nicest room I had ever seen, let alone been in. It felt weird breathing _air _in there. Like my jeans and ratty Converse were incredibly out of place to the extent that they should be thrown away _toot sweet. _"Okay, definitely not," I said under my breath, backing out of the room. Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. A smaller door at the end of the hall. It looked like it was asking to be opened. I walked to it and put my hand on the knob, and turned it. The door swung open with a little protest, like it was saying, _yeah, okay, you can open me, I guess. _

The walls were blue. That was the first thing I noticed. There was a large window on the fair wall, and it was much, much smaller than the first room, but not _small _in the least. Much better. I smiled to myself. Perfect.

Ella had arrived at the top of the staircase. "Hey, did you pick? Max? Where are you?" She walked into the first room I had been in, and after a second I heard a long, high whistle. She walked out shaking her head. "Definitely not." Ella and I were often on the same wavelength.

"That's what I said!" I yelled down the hall. She turned towards me and half-jogged down the hall to see the room, her ponytail swinging.

"Aw, man, I want this room."

"I called it," I told her. "Besides, there's millions to pick from."

"There's four," She told me pointedly.

"Well, whatever. Same difference," I waved her off. "Now shoo. My room and I have some planning to do." She stuck her tongue out at me before heading back down the hallway. I turned back towards the room that was now _mine, _feeling only a slight twang for our old house and my familiar room there. Not to mention my old friends and—_get a grip, Max. What you feel doesn't do any good. Not now. Not—_

"Now," I said aloud to the room, feeling sort of better, "What am I going to do with you?"


	5. Chapter 5

As it turned out, nothing. Mom called Ella and I down soon after we had chosen our rooms to start unpacking. We learned something new on our expedition to officially "move in:" Ella is horrifically, and I mean _horrifically, _allergic to dust.

"Ah-ah-ah-_chew!_" Ella sneezed for the 17,000th time. I giggled. Again. Normally, I do _not _do the giggling thing. But her sneezes were just so dang _funny. _She glared at me.

"Alright, Ella. You're done," Mom told her. Ella stuck her tongue out at me. I stuck mine out right back. Mom gave me a look. "Max…"

"Mom, my eyes are itchy," Ella said pitifully. "And Max is making fun of me." I started to interrupt, but Mom got there first.

"Go upstairs and put a cold hand towel on your face," She said to Ella, who immediately started the long trek upstairs. Then she turned to me. I opened my mouth to plead my case, but she just held out her hand in the "stop talking" signal. I shut it again. "Max, you can keep bringing furniture in," She said. "And stop making fun of your sister." Her voice was stern, but there was laughter in her eyes. I grinned.

"You got it."

Mom turned to follow Ella upstairs, and I opened the front door and stepped outside. The van was parked in front of the house, and the back was open. I walked around it and saw the end of the couch, poking out from behind a couple of boxes. I jumped up into the back of the van and began pulling it in my direction, down the ramp and onto the street. There I set it down, and wondered how the heck I was going to get it inside.

"Need some help?" I spun around to see who had spoken and found I had to look down a little to look them in the eye. It was a girl, with dark shoulder-length hair and a pair of humongous sunglasses that covered half her face. She had tanned olive skin, and stood maybe a 4'11" to my 5'8". She held a leash with a black standard poodle on the end, who was looking at me curiously and sniffing the air. The girl walked closer and stuck out her hand, "I'm Corliss. Corliss Eberhardt." I was slightly taken aback at such a straightforward attitude coming from someone who looked to be around 11 years old, but I shook it.

"Max Ride," I said.

"Wait a minute. Max Ride?" I nodded, bracing myself for the comment people usually made after I introduced myself, something usually along the lines of, _Weird name. Aren't you a girl? _But instead she asked, "Do you play soccer?" I grinned. Californians _did _play soccer.

"Yeah, do you?"

"No. But my sister does." I was about to ask if her sister was older when Mom called for me out the front door.

"Max! How far along are you?" She stepped outside and spotted the couch lying on the street, then groaned. "Max, when I said to keep bringing furniture in, I didn't mean…" She then saw Corliss and immediately brightened, hurrying down the steps to the street. "Hello!"

Corliss smiled. "Hi."

"Are you Maeve? Caroline's told me so much about you!" My mom was beaming so brightly I wished I had Corliss's (Maeve's?) sunglasses. "It's so wonderful that Max and Ella will have a friendly face when they start at Truman."

"Actually, Mrs. Martinez, I'm Corliss," Corliss said politely. "Maeve's my sister."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mom replied, looking slightly embarrassed. "Are you her little sister?" I could now tell that Corliss was holding back some hidden laughter.

"On the contrary. I'm older than her." Now Mom just looked plain confused.

"But…"

"MOM! COME QUICK!" Ella's voice cut through the awkward silence that had followed my mom's slight blunder. "My eyes are so swollen! I can't go to school like this!"

"I'll be there in a minute!" Mom called back, sounding irritated. She gave Corliss a little smile. "Duty calls," She said. "Sorry about the mix-up. Tell your mom hi for me, would you?"

"Will do," Corliss replied. With another smile, Mom was off to Ella's rescue.

"So…" I said, not really sure how to initiate a conversation. Corliss smiled at me, genuinely friendly. She seemed to be one of those people who are naturally happy, like, all the time. I wasn't sure how that would coincide with my _own _sparkling personality. Ha. Ha.

"So when are you starting at Truman? What grade are you in?" She asked.

"Tomorrow," _Unfortunately, _I added in my head. Ella was the one who was excited, being the social butterfly she is. "I'm in 10th. You?" _Dummy! _I reprimanded myself_. She's probably not even in high school yet!_

"I'm a sophomore too!" She said. "Sweet. Maybe we'll have some classes together."

"That would be cool," I agreed, my head spinning. This teeny girl was a sophomore? Was she some kind of child-genius?

"Oh, God. Look at the time," She said, glancing at a small silver watch on her left wrist I hadn't noticed before. "I really gotta go. Mom will have my head if I'm late again. It was great meeting you, Max! See you tomorrow! You need to sit with us at lunch!"

"Um, okay," I said. "Bye." And with a final grin and a wave, she was off, jogging back down the street with her dog in tow. I watched until she was out of sight.

I mentally groaned. If this was Social Max, I could only imagine what I would be like on my first day at a new school.

Meaning tomorrow.


	6. Chapter 6

"Pizza," I cooed, biting into yet another slice of pure heaven. Ella nodded emphatically, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin that had come with the food.

"How many slices have you had?" She asked. There was one left.

"Sheven," I replied, my mouth full. Ella made a face.

"Ew, Max, don't do that. How do you eat so fast?" Without waiting for a reply, she snagged the last slice and declared, "Anyway, I get the last one. I've only had two."

"S'not my fault you're a slow eater," I said, eyeing the slice in her hand. There was no way she was getting away with this.

"It's hard to swallow when your sister is eating like a ballerina on a binge."

"And how would you know about that, Elly?" I questioned sweetly. Ella had been a dancer for…what was it now? She was fourteen now, so…nine years? She had started when she was five, so that made sense. Ooh, killin' em, Max. Those math skills leave nothing to be desired.

Anyway.

Ella ignored my question, instead asking one of her own. "So, who was that little girl you were talking to outside?" I must have looked confused, because she added quickly, "I was watching from the upstairs window."

"Um, I think her name was Corliss. Corliss…Everheart?" I couldn't be bothered with details; Ella may have been on a quest to figure out who it was that I was talking to, but I had a mission of my own. _Thou shalt not eat thy slice, for it is myne._

"Max, I highly doubt _anyone _has the last name Everheart. C'mon, think. I need to know this stuff." _A-ha. _So Ella was on her latest babysitting conquest.

"Ells, if you're looking for a client, you're not gonna find one. She goes to Truman."

"Dangit," She said, putting her pizza down on the floor (we hadn't unpacked our plates yet… or anything, for that matter), where I snatched it up almost before it had left her hand. Five-second rule, you know. "Hey, you tricked me!" She wailed. I smirked at her.

"Believe what you wanna believe, sister dearest," I said, taking a bite. "I took what was rightfully mine. This is the result you get when you go up against the incredible, incomparable Maximum Ride."

"More like Maximum _Rude_."

Pause.

"That was a good comeback," I admitted.

"I know," Ella grinned at me. Just then, Mom came in, drying her hands on a paper towel.

"Girls, are you almost done? You should get to bed soon. You have a big day tomorrow."

Ella cheered; I sulked. We dumped the empty pizza box into the recycling bin and headed upstairs, Ella telling me all about tomorrow's outfit (hers, not mine) and how she hoped she would fit in. I secretly agreed with her; standing out on purpose had never appealed to me.

It was a warm night, something I was used to, but it was a different kind of warm. It wasn't dry; the air was humid like it was left over from summer, though it was November. I listened to the sound of Ella and Mom talking as Ella brushed her teeth down the hall, my eyes open and straining against the darkness that was my room. I clicked a button on my phone, and the screen blinked to life. _9:02 pm_, the screen read. I groaned and set the phone down on the floor next to where I lay and punched my pillow a few times, but not because it wasn't comfortable. I sighed, trying to will myself to sleep. What felt like a half hour later found me switching my phone on again. _9:07 pm. _

This was going to be a long night.

_And tomorrow, _I thought as I began to drift off, _an even longer day._


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi guys! Sorry I'm updating late, but honestly I'm supposed to be studying, so…**

**Anyway, sorry about that. Hopefully since this is the last week of school I'll be able to have a steadier updating schedule over summer vacay, where all I'll be doing is watching soap operas, old Russian movies, going to improv camp, playing soccer and writing Fanfiction. That is my summer. Very exciting. **

**Enjoy!**

"Good morning!" Ella sang as she sat down at the breakfast (folding) table. To be honest, I only half heard her. I was pretty busy trying to not fall into my cereal and drown in the milk. There are many things you can call me, from aggressive to zabaglione, which is a type of frothy custard, but morning person isn't one of them. I couldn't imagine having to get up any earlier than I already had to, but my Mom did that every morning, thoughtfully waking me up right before she headed out the door by playing Latin music at the highest possible volume on her iPhone. She had left an hour before Ella came downstairs around 6:30. Ah, the joys of being a veterinarian.

"Gmorgng," I mumbled, my eyelids drooping and my head nodding. I could feel Ella's critical stare, and as soon as she spoke the fact that she was judging me was confirmed.

"Good grief," She muttered. I heard her pick something up. "Let's do something about your hair." As soon as I heard the word "hair," I knew I should be alarmed in some way, but it didn't compute in time, and by then it was too late. Ella stuck her hairbrush in my hair and _yanked. _I was up like a rocket.

"OWW!" I yelled, snapping my head up, which, believe it or not, worsened the situation. The second and third words out of my mouth were not quite as pleasant as _oww. _So let's just skate over that, shall we?

Ella had her hand over her mouth and looked suspiciously like she was trying not to laugh, but before I could narrow my eyes at her she spoke, setting the hairbrush down on the bare kitchen counter.

"Sorry, Max. But jeez, don't you condition?"

"Only when it's soccer season."

"Ha. Ha." She rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

I grinned at her. "Maybe."

She muttered something under her breath in Spanish. I won't repeat what she said, because this story is, after all, rated T.

"Elly, you _do _know I speak Spanish too, right?"

She smiled sweetly at me. "Sorry, Max. I forgot. Es sólo que eres tan _blanco_."

I made a face at her, but I couldn't really retort with anything moderately clever (not 'cause I didn't have a comeback, because I totally did) because she was…well, I don't really want to say _right, _but she was…not wrong. She was 100% Hispanic, with the shortness gene that she had inherited from our mother along with the dark wavy hair, darker tan skin and chocolatey brown eyes. I, on the other hand, was half, 5'8", had straight light brown hair and slightly lighter brown eyes, (the only thing I had been lucky enough to inherit from my mom), and lightly tanned skin. What's the word? Beige? Basically, I matched the color of our new house. I even had _freckles. _So, yes, I was the vanilla Frappuccino to Ella's caramel mocha. See, Starbucks metaphors! _That _is how white I am.

Ahem. Moving on.

I busied myself with my cereal, digging my spoon into the contents of my bowl only to find, to my dismay, the soggy remnants of what had once been delicious and not at all nutritious. Bits of what looked like cardboard after being left out in the rain floated unappetizingly in the similarly-colored milk. I wrinkled my nose, picked up my bowl, and carried it over to the sink. I dumped it over, watching my beloved cereal swirl down the drain. Behind me, Ella cleared her throat.

"Max."

I grunted gruffly. "What?" I turned around to face her.

"Is that what you're wearing? Seriously?"

I glanced down at my outfit, feeling defensive. "Yup."

"Oh, dear Lord." Ella lay her head down on her arms, then sprang up suddenly from her seat, bounding across the kitchen and grabbing my arm. "Come with me."

"Um, no thanks."

She tugged my arm, and I reluctantly followed her. "What do you want?" I asked warily.

"You are going to be gorgeous for your first day and you are going to thank me for it."

"Oh, no. No, no, no," I said, yanking my arm away from her grasp. "We have absolutely _no _time for that, Ells."

"Then we'll just have to make time. Because there is no _way _I'm letting you go to school in _that._" She wrinkled her nose at my outfit.

"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "It's all clean."

"Those are the same pants you wore yesterday," She told me pointedly.

"So?" I replied defensively. "They're clean! See, no stains!"

She gave me a long, hard stare. I stared back. _Where did she learn to do that?_

Eventually, she sighed, grabbing hold of my arm again and tugging me towards the stairs. "Listen, Max. After today, you can wear whatever you want. Hell, you can go to school naked. But today you need to at least _try _to look nice. I'm just trying to help."

"I know," I muttered. "Okay, fine," I said, "But just, and I mean _just, _today."

Ella squealed, pulling me up the stairs. "Great, Max. I won't pluck your eyebrows or anything. Just a new outfit. And a little touch-up."

_Wait, who said anything about a touch-up? _

Whatever. I decided to just roll with it. In front of me as we plodded up the stairs, Ella was still talking.

"I won't even make you curl your hair, Max. I mean, it looks fine straight, God knows I wish _I _had straight hair. You would only need to curl it for a special occasion or something…" etc., etc. We reached the top of the stairs, and I followed Ella into her room. I admit I gasped a little as I walked inside. Everything was so…_organized. _It felt pretty lame knowing all I had out of boxes in _my_ room was a sleeping bag, a pillow, and a pair of dirty socks. Ella didn't have to know anything about that.

I watched as she rummaged through a large purple bag with white and black flowers glued on it tidily. She had spent an _hour _gluing tiny felt flowers on a _make-up bag. _My God.

"Ah-hah!" She cried, holding up a small black tube of…stuff. She set it aside and continued pulling out other…things, one of them holding a close resemblance to how I had imagined a torture device from medieval Europe would look.

Once she had a collection of tubes, bottles and pots sitting on her dresser, she led me to her closet. She opened the door and, to my amazement, dresses, shirts, and pants alike were hanging on the rack, organized by _color._ Jeez.

She began pulling clothes down, tossing two articles of clothing into my arms, both of which I examined closely. Hm. Dark blue tank top, white tee shirt…I glanced at her questioningly. She shrugged as though knowing my question.

"We're both pretty slender. I mean, you're way taller, but I have a long torso, so we probably have about the same shirt size. You'll need to wear your own pants, though."

"Ells, this shirt…it's _see-through_."

Ella rolled her eyes.

"That's what the tank top is for, Max," She said, as though speaking to a 3-year-old. "Go put those on. Don't wear a sports bra; you'll be able to see it with the tank top."

"Yeah, okay. Fine. Whatever," I said, standing up quickly so she wouldn't have time to force anything else on me and heading for the bedroom door.

"Oh, _Max._"

Busted.

"What?"

"Wear those new skinny jeans you just got. The dark ones."

I stomped out, hearing Ella's giggles even after I slammed the door. I found the dumb skinny jeans sitting neatly on the top of a box marked 'M's School Clothes,' after I tore it open, grabbing them and dumping the entirety of the new outfit onto my sleeping bag. I undressed quickly and tried on the new clothes, which, unfortunately, fit me perfectly. I met Ella back in her room, who gave me a quick once-over and nodded her approval.

"Good. Those colors actually look great on you. I'm a genius."

"I'm so happy for you," I muttered.

She ignored me. "Alright, back to the hair."

She attacked my tangles with her brush, me wincing but not complaining each time the bristles met my snarls. After a few minutes she was able to run the brush smoothly through my hair, obviously relieved the job was done. I was just happy I wasn't bald, because she had probably pulled out enough of my hair to weave a blanket.

"Okay, Max, it's make-up time."

"Are you serious?"

"When am I ever not?" She studied my face. "Okay, light foundation and blue shadow. Mmm, no blush. That's too try-hard-y." She picked up a tube from her Pile 'o Torture and squeezed some brown stuff onto her hand. "Max, this is just some foundation. You don't really get acne, but it's just to make sure your skin looks healthy and even."

"My skin _always _looks healthy and even."

"Ugh, don't remind me. You don't even wash your face!"

"You can't improve on perfection," I reminded her.

"Don't push it."

She spread the _foundation _(new vocabulary word!) on my face.

"This feels gross," I complained. "Like you've puréed somebody's skin and you're putting it on me."

Ella made a face. "Gross, Max."

I won't bore you with the details of Ella bringing out my "natural beauty," because you'd probably fall asleep if you aren't so already. (By the way, foundation does feel like that, for all you _au natural _people out there.) So let's just skip to where I discover how beautiful I really am and grovel at Ella's feet, worshipping her as the Beauty Goddess she is, yada yada yada.

No, I'm kiddin'. Spoiler Alert, that would never happen. But I will admit I was pretty shocked when I looked in the mirror 15 minutes later.

~_15 minutes later~_

"Wow," I said, looking in the mirror 15 minutes later. Ella hovered anxiously nearby.

"Do you like it?"

"I look like Prep School Barbie." Ella looked horrified for a second, until she realized I was kidding. She lightly punched me in the arm.

"Anything for you, sister dearest."

I smiled at her. Ella could be annoying at times, but I really did love her, and she meant well most of time. Plus, I looked awesome. So that helped her case.

"Thanks, Ells," I said softly, staring at my refection. My hair was gleaming, and lay over my shoulders and down my back. My skin was actually sort of glowing, and my eyes, normally a sort of boring brown, were bright and…_pretty_. I was something I had never really considered myself as. Pretty.

Now, as a feminist, I don't want to say that from then on I wore makeup everyday after that because that was the only way I could see myself as beautiful, because that it definitely not the case. But on that day, for the first time, I realized that stuff like this wasn't _all _bad, all the time. I looked pretty kick-ass. I could almost compete with Ella. I smiled lightly at myself in the mirror, then got up.

Ella hugged me tightly, then released me, grinning. Our Hallmark moment was over.

"Ready to go?"

I took a deep breath, taking one last glance at my reflection before turning back to face my sister.

'"Ready as I'll ever be."

**It's almost time for the first day! This may be the longest chapter I have ever written on anything in my life. It was almost painful to write, because I'm very used to writing short chapters, but I'm trying to push myself. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review, they make my night :)**

**Also, I have a question that I'm hoping you will answer! How old do you think I am, based on my writing? Maybe don't base it on this chapter, because this was my first long-ish chapter, but guess! I'm just curious to know. Put your answer in your review that I am very much hoping you will write. (Hint much?)**

**Wait, I lied. I have another question. Do any of you guys read Jane Austen? Or Charlotte Bronte? I have been OBSESSED with Victorian England. I just watched Emma. So wonderful. Okay no more lies, bye guys! **

**Heh. Rhymes.**

**~Maro~**


	8. Chapter 8

"This is _so _exciting." Ella gazed at her refection in her iPhone's blank screen before pocketing it. The iPhone, I mean. Not the screen.

"Mm." We had been waiting at the bus stop a few blocks away from our new house for at least 10 minutes, the tops of our heads burning from the November sun's heat. This was ridiculous. It hadn't been _two days _since our arrival in Santa Monica, California in Los Angeles, and we had already been thrown into working out the routes of LA Metro. Sun Tran was starting to look really good.

"Oh, come on, Max. I know you're excited. At least a little bit."

"Mm." _Nice try, Ell's Bells. _Ha, get it?

Ella huffed.

We stood in silence for a minute before Ella pulled out her phone for the billionth time and clicked the 'home' button with her thumb, bringing the screen to life. "7:18," Ella said, more to herself than to me. "Should be here by—"

"Hey, it's here!" I said, squinting down the street.

"—Now," Ella grumbled, flipping her sleek ponytail over her shoulder and shoving the phone back into her jacket. I readjusted my backpack as the bus rumbled up the street, looking mostly empty due to the unholy hour of the morning. We watched as the bus rolled up to the curb, waiting for the doors to open so we could board. We clambered on and paid our fares, receiving transits in exchange for our quarters. I spotted a window seat down the aisle and snagged it before the bus started moving. I loved window seats, mostly because I was extremely claustrophobic. They were an escape. The bus shuddered into motion, lurching Ella into the seat beside me. She didn't seem to notice; she was busy scrolling through her Instagram feed. A long and grueling task. So. Much. Double. Tapping.

I leaned my forehead against the cold bus window, a shiver running up my spine as my skin met the cool glass. I heard Ella muttering next to me, criticizing pictures but Liking them anyway. Taptap. Taptap. Taptap.

Good God.

As the bus jolted along, my forehead bumped against the window myriad times, but I had bigger things on my mind than the goose egg I would start my first day off with. My mind was _on fire. _Why, why, why, why WHY? Why did we have to move? Why start school _now? _Why not wait until after Winter Break to postpone my inevitable humiliation? I mean, come _on. _Who starts at a new school in _November? _Puh-leez. If you asked me (which nobody did, coughMomcough) this whole move was the _epitome _of rash decisions. And why did we do it? Because Brad Pitt and Angelina called us up and invited us to move in? No. Because we won the lottery and decided to haul ass to California to try our hand in partying with Hollywood and eventually lose all our money in Vegas? No. My mom's _job _changed. Because the Big Guys Upstairs controlling all the branches of my mother's work decided it would be just _fantastic _to uproot Dr. Valencia Martinez's family from their cozy home in the suburbs of Tucson, fly them out to freaking _California, _pay for the down payment on a big fat schmancy house, and send her daughters off to the best private school in the state. To be honest, I didn't even know _what _my mom did for a living. Well, yeah, she was a vet, but…

"Ma-aax!" Ella's voice jolted me out of my reverie.

"What?" I snapped, and instantly regretted it. Ella looked hurt.

"This is our stop," she said. Oh.

"Yeah, okay," I said, swallowing my guilt. That moment had passed. Time to move on.

The bus pulled up to the sidewalk and stopped, emitting a loud hiss as it lowered so we could get off. Ella got up from her seat and walked quickly down the narrow aisle, and I followed, my dumb backpack bumping annoyingly against my back as I walked. Seconds later, the bus was pulling away and we were standing on the street, squinting in the sunlight.

"Which way now?" I asked. Ella consulted her phone.

"We walk three blocks and then make a left," she said, and then turned the phone. "Or is it a right?"

"Left," I said confidently. Mom had driven us to the school the day before, showing us the bus route we would need to take and where we would need to walk, and it was mostly easy to remember. The main issue I had with LA was that _everything _looked the same. The houses, the restaurants, you name it; It was like some sort of crazy labyrinth. In a way, I really admired that about it. It was a challenge, one that I was forced to accept. I liked that, I really did.

"Okay, left it is," Ella said, tucking her phone away into her backpurse. I didn't really know what to call it; it was some weird hybrid between Chanel and Jansport. Hence Backpurse. My imagination has no limits.

Ella and I walked silently for about 5 minutes before turning left on Truman Avenue. And there it was. What I had been holding my breath for. And man, it was _huge. _Oh, sorry. Not the school. The soccer field. It was _awesome. _It was gloriously beautiful. I wanted to cry tears of joy, except I didn't, because tears are for weenies.

The school itself was fine, I guess. It was pretty big. The only thing that really struck me about it was the fact that it was so well cared for. The shrubs, the lawns, the freaking _fountain _(yes, there was a fountain) it was all, well, perfect. Not _my _idea of perfect, obviously. But somebody's. Great idea, Truman Founder. Way to uproot my life.

Anyway.

Even if the school wasn't, I don't know, a castle, it definitely wasn't small. I found myself thanking my lucky stars I had a good internal compass. Ella, on the other hand, who got lost trying to find the bathroom in the middle of the night, was a whole 'nother story. Basically, she was toast. "You're toast," I informed her.

"I know," she groaned, tightening her ponytail and hitching up her skinny jeans. "There's no way I'll ever be able to find my way around in there."

"Cheer up. Isn't that your job? Turning the frowns of Negative Nellies upside down?" I said teasingly. Ella gave me a sour look.

"If that was my job, Max, I would be playing soccer because—"

"—I would have made you quit. Ha ha," I interrupted. "And if I had a quarter for every time you've said that, I would be freaking _royalty. _Now let's go inside before we're Seniors. Or senior citizens." I cast a glance around—why, I don't know—and caught the gaze of some guy leaning up against the school building who had evidently been watching mine and Ella's interaction for some time. He was super tall, taller than me, which I can't say that I liked. Long-ish dark hair. Olive skin. He reminded me of someone who I couldn't place, which bothered me. He was sort of attractive, I guess. From a distance. Possibly from _any_ distance. Possibly—shut up, Max. God. Whatever. He was okay-looking. Geez. The point was, the _point _was, however he _looked, _he was _looking_ at _me. _Which I mostly didn't like. He had an almost thoughtful expression on his face, which was otherwise devoid of all emotion. Huh. Weirdo. I grabbed Ella and stalked towards the main doors, but not before shooting him a glare that could wither a plant. He raised an eyebrow coolly as I grabbed the door handle and yanked. Um, problem. _The door didn't open. _I tried again. Nothing. I refused to look back at Tall, Dark and Moderately Good-Looking, but I would bet you a million dollars he was splitting his sides laughing at me.

"Hey, those doors don't open yet," A somewhat familiar voice called. "You have to go in through the side doors before 8." Ella and I whirled around. Corliss. She was dressed _way _differently than I had last seen her, though, in a huge black hoodie and red basketball shorts. The hood was pulled over her head, like she didn't want to be noticed, which was odd. She had seemed pretty outgoing the day before…

"Max!" Okay, _now _I was confused. Corliss was jogging down the street in a light pink skirt and gray sweater, somehow not tripping in 2-inch high-heeled black ankle boots as she trotted towards us. TDaMGL had un-leaned himself from the wall and was walking down the street, no longer acknowledging any of us. Fine by me. "Hey, how are you? Is this your sister?" Corliss had reached us, smiling and readjusting a scarf that had come loose from her obviously very carefully put-together ensemble. Her look-alike was loping towards us reluctantly, like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Um, this is my sister, Ella. Ella, Corliss."

"Hi!" Ella said, beaming. I could already tell they were going to get along. Swimmingly.

"Hey," Corliss said, still smiling. She glanced back and rolled her eyes, gesturing at the girl in the black hoodie to hurry up. "Sorry. This is my sister, Maeve." Oh. Duh. Twins. Now it all made sense. No wonder Mom had been confused.

"Hey," Maeve said uncomfortably.

"Max plays soccer," Corliss told her twin, who evidently did not like meeting new people. "See? There _are _people like you!"

"Oh, shut up," Maeve replied, glaring at her sister.

"You _wish _you did," Corliss said, not missing a beat. Ella and I exchanged a confused glance. I mean, in what universe did that just make sense? Apparently it did to them, though, because Corliss looked guilty, if only for a second.

"I'm going to…go inside." Maeve said. "Later," She told Corliss. "Um, nice meeting you," She said to Ella and I. She took off, disappearing around the side of the school. Huh. Now it was Corliss's turn to look uncomfortable.

"So, um, what do you have first off? I have Chem. Worst. Class. Ever," She said, rolling her eyes, but smiling to show us that she wasn't too bothered. Ella dug through her backpurse and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

"Hmm. Wait, so do I!" She said, scanning the page. "Looks like we'll flunk it together." Corliss laughed, then stopped.

"Wait, you're a sophomore too?" She asked, confused. "Are you guys twins? Like, fraternal, or something?"

"Nope," I butted in. "We'll leave the twinning to you. Ells is just super smart. She skipped 4th Grade." Corliss looked impressed. Ella was too dark to really blush, but she turned a shade darker.

"Eesh. It's not that big a deal," She muttered. Corliss grinned at me and wiggled her eyebrows, and I had to laugh. I was liking her more and more.

"Cory!" A shrill voice called across the lawn. A group of around 7 or 8 girls were standing about 20 yards away, and a pretty redhead with striking green eyes I could see from where I was standing was waving frantically in our direction. As they got closer, Corliss grabbed Ella and I with an iron grip for such fairylike hands (I later realized that the whole twin thing had a lot to do with her smallness) and pulled us over to the group.

"Hey," She said to the redheaded girl. "This is Max Ride Martinez—" I had no idea how she knew my full name—"And this is Ella Martinez. They're new." The redhead smiled glitteringly at both of us.

"Hi." She said. "I'm Lissa."


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey. I know I haven't been updating regularly. There's lots of stuff I'm doing this summer that I didn't really take into account before. I'll try to update as soon as I can. I'm going on vacation for two weeks though, so…we'll see. If my mom brings her computer, I can update. I'm going to Martha's Vineyard, in Massachusetts, which does not feel like the right spelling but hopefully is. But anyway, I'm excited! Please review and all that fun stuff. I love reading what you guys think. Are you taking any vacations? If so, where? I wanna know! Okay, it's about that time where I stop talking and just let you read the damn story. Sorry. Enjoy :]**

"So," Lissa said. "Why did you guys move, anyway? Did your dad change jobs, or something? Wait, are you even related? Cousins?" She had sat Ella and I down on a nearby bench, peppering us with questions. Her entourage was clustered around, hanging on to every word.

"They're half-sisters," Corliss put in.

"No dad, either of us," Ella said. "We just live with our mom." Lissa smiled in a way that could have passed for sympathy, then brightened.

"That's cool, though. It's like Girl's Night _every _night!" She said.

"Exactly," Ella agreed.

"So, like, why'd you move?" One girl said. She had long straight hair and an earnest expression.

"Hey, yeah, tell us," Lissa prompted. I could tell Ella was enjoying the attention from girls she obviously belonged with. Me, on the other hand…

"It's not super exciting," Ella admitted. "My mom just randomly says one day, 'Hey, girls! My job switched! We're moving!' and we came here."

"But you're glad, right?" A different girl said. The rest of them laughed, Ella among them.

"Does your sister ever talk?"Lissa asked Ella. "I don't even know what her voice sounds like!" What the—"She's _just _like _your_ sister," She told Corliss, twisting around to look at her. "I swear."

"It's because she's around me all the time," Ella said easily. "I talk enough for the both of us." _Thank you, little sister. _Lissa raised an eyebrow. I shrugged.

"I don't really like gossip," I said.

"Oh, I don't either. But I _love _to talk." Lissa leaned back to stretch. Her eyes were narrowed at me, bright green in the sun. She looked like a cat.

"I can tell."

Lissa studied me for a moment, before turning to Corliss. "Are you sure it's you and Maven who're twins? I think you and Max might've gotten switched." Corliss looked kind of uncomfortable with the question, even if it was rhetorical, and hey, I got it. Being put under pressure about your sibling sucks. I would imagine it was worse with your twin, with someone who was just like you. I had no idea how wrong I was here, how different the twins really were.

"Maven?" Ella asked, looking confused. "I thought her name was Maeve."

"It's a nickname," Corliss said hurriedly. "We call her that because—"

"It suits her," Lissa interrupted, looking scornful though she was still smiling lightly. "She thinks she knows everything." Corliss looked upset, but was silent. Maybe it was true.

"Excuse me," She said, and got up from her place and walked away.

Maybe not.

"What's her problem?" Lissa yawned and stretched her arms behind her back. "Well, whatever. She's probably just hanging out with her sister to much." What a Rhymes-With-Pitch!

"Look, I don't know what _your _problem is," I said. "But as of now, _I'll _be your problem unless you back off of her sister."

"Oh, _really,_" Lissa said sarcastically. "My problem, huh? Maybe you should worry about your own problems. Sounds like you've got enough of them."

"I could," I agreed. "That would be most reasonable. Unfortunately, I'm not known for making reasonable decisions." I cracked all the knuckles on the left hand. Not threateningly or anything. Just 'cause it feels nice. But that was enough for Lissa.

"Stay away from me," She shot back.

"Gladly," I said. I stood up, grabbed my backpack from its place on the grass, and stalked away towards the school _just _as the bell rang. Ooh, dramatic exit.

My favorite kind.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for being MIA so long! I'm only able to write when I'm at my dad's house, which is not very often. Anyway, prepare yourselves for the shortest and most filler-y chapter on this site. Sorry about that, too…I promise I'll have another one up later today though, so it's all cool. School starts for me on Monday… :( … What about you? Please review even though this is a super lame chapter :]**

Once the bell had stopped ringing, I glanced once at the three papers I held in my hand. Two of them were my class and bell schedules, and the other was a scrap of notebook paper that had my locker number and combination scribbled on it. _D74: 15-25-05. _O-kay. First things first. Getting to class and somehow not being a half hour late. Got it. I shifted two of the three papers from my left hand into my right, leaving the class schedule so I could take a closer look. _What font size did they use, eight? _I lifted the paper up to my face so I could actually _read _it. And then—

"Auugh! Hey! Watch where you're going!" I yelped on impulse as someone barreled into me. Hard. I stumbled forward, taking a moment to regain my balance before whirling on the person who had crashed into me. The someone looked pretty familiar. It was _him_.

Dammit.

I reluctantly held out my hand to help him up, though on the inside? It felt like Hell was consuming my internal organs. _That _is how angry I was at that moment. He grudgingly accepted my offer, and I felt a shimmer of respect towards TDaMGL , at least knowing that he wasn't a total chauvinist pig who refused a hand up from, God forbid, a _girl. _He was, however, a complete and total Neanderthal. Get this: _He _smacks into _me, _I help him up, and he _grunts _at me. He just grunts and walks away. Like, okay. Sorry to inconvenience you by taking up space in your otherwise totally empty hallway where collisions can easily be avoided.

Still fuming, I headed off to my first class.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello again :] Please remember to review! Here you go, as promised…**

First class: Spanish 3H. Should be easy enough. I was lucky enough to I shrugged my shoulders and headed out of homeroom, where I had spent the dullest 15 minutes of my life. They were so dull, in fact, that they're not even worth mentioning, so let's move on.

I located the class, zeroing in on the number painted carefully over the door. _217\. _I opened it.

I was met with twenty-four pairs of eyes staring back at me, and I could feel the hairs on my arms prickling. It was unnerving, being the center of attention like that. Not exactly my favorite thing. Trying to ignore the stares I was getting, I strode up to the teacher, a short Hispanic woman with long dark hair clasped with a large green clip. She smiled warmly at me.

"You must be Maximum Ride…Martinez?" Her confusion (It was probably the blond hair/last name combo) was evident, but her tone radiated warmth and my discomfort was eased. I smiled back, hesitantly.

"Yeah," I said. "Um, is there assigned seating, or…" I trailed off, just wanting to _sit the heck down. _But my teacher apparently had other plans.

"Okay, class," she said, clapping her hands loudly to get their attention. There wasn't much difference in the class's behavior, though, because mostly everyone was already looking at me. "This is Maximum." She gave me another smile, then frowned and leaned towards me. "I'm sorry, dear. Is Ride part of your first name or last name?"

"It's just a middle name, sort of," I shrugged uncomfortably. "I mostly just go by Max."

"Hi, Max." Someone called from the back of the class. I waved awkwardly in their general direction. This was all new to me. I wasn't used to being shy, or, or awkward, or anything like this. I don't want to toot my own horn _too _much, so lemme know when it starts to get annoying, but I really didn't—and still don't—think of myself as an awkward person. _At all. _So I would hardly think that being introduced to _one _classroom full of people would be that big of a deal. I mean, I knew it would be hard. Me + New People = No-No situation. It's not rocket science. I just didn't know it would be _this _hard.

"So, Max. Would you like to tell us anything about yourself? You don't have to, but to be honest…" She dropped her voice to a low stage whisper. "…We've been dying to meet you ever since we saw your name on the list of transfer students to this class. It seemed like a premonition of a very interesting person." Her eyes sparkled. Cruel, lady, cruel. Now I felt both obligated _and _somehow even more uncomfortable. What if I didn't meet up with their standards? This _was _private school, you know. These places are where the achieve-y people go. And I wasn't particularly achieve-y, unless you counted soccer. You want straight A's, see my sister. What if they all thought I was dumb? What if…Hey, here's an idea! What if I just _SHUT UP?_

"Um, hi. My name's Max. Oh, but I guess we've already covered that," I mumbled, trying to cover up my mistake. To my surprise, a couple people laughed. Well, that was all I needed. I smiled a little and looked out over the classroom. "My family and I just moved here from Arizona."

"Where in Arizona?" Someone shouted.

"Tucson."

"Isn't Max a boy's name?" Someone else called, to a stern look from the teacher.

"Maybe, but can you prove I'm not a boy?" I replied, lightning quick. The class laughed. I was feeling pretty good. For being at school, anyway.

"Well, Max, thank you. I'll show you to your seat." The teacher interjected smoothly. I followed her down the rows of polished seats, stopping at an empty desk between a boy with chestnut hair and a girl with bright purple hair. My teacher smiled at me, then at the girl and the guy before striding back down the aisle.

"Hi," said the guy, grinning a goofy grin. "I'm Sam." He looked like a Sam, too. For some reason, right then I was glad that was his name. I have no idea why. H eofered his hand to me, and I shook it.

"Max." He had nice hands.

The teacher was beginning to talk again, so the girl to my right leaned over and whispered. "Violet." She grinned at me and pointed to her head, specifically the bright purple feathery hair covering it. "You'll remember."

"There's not a doubt in my mind," I replied, grinning back. I leaned back in my seat, stretching my back as I vaguely listened to the teacher telling us about verbs. So far, so good.

**So, Max is beginning to adapt! Maybe a little…? :) Eh, she'll get there. In the meantime, PLEASE REVIEW! I might have another chapter up tomorrow but your feedback is my fuel. Thank you guys! Peace. -M**


	12. Chapter 12

**ANOTHER CHAPTER! Sweet pudding, I am on a ROLL! Mehhh….sorta. It's still pretty short. Sorry! I go back to school…TOMORROW! UGHH! Welp, see you guys soon, hopefully. Maybe later this week if I'm not totally swamped. Please REVIEWW! Love them comments :] ENJOY!**

The rest of the morning passed by uneventfully, dragging out the hours before lunch. Neither Corliss or Maeve, (Maven?) or even Ella was in any of my morning classes. Spanish was followed by Language Arts, which was hell. My gramer isnt to good. Moving on, we have World History, the dullest class in the history of ever, and finally: _Lunch. Ahhh._

I pushed my way into the lunchroom and was greeted by a question: _Where to sit? _I scanned the cafeteria for Ella but I couldn't see her anywhere. And this is coming from someone with exceptional vision.

"Max!"

I started as someone called my name. I looked around. It was a very small someone, and she was making her way towards me, smiling broadly. Corliss.

When she reached me, she grabbed my wrist and started heading back the way she came. We passed by her sister's table; they made eye contact and Maeve gave her twin a tight-lipped smile before turning back to her companions. As we passed by I caught a glimpse of a blond haired boy sitting across from her, and the purple haired girl from Spanish. Violet. All three were listening intently to something that was playing on an iPod on the table in front of them. Corliss pulled me all the way across the room, stopping at the one of the largest tables I had seen.

"Okay, everybody. This is Max. This is her first day here." She said, nudging me forward.

"We _know, _Cor. _Everybody _knows." Someone groaned from down at the far end.

"Wow, I feel famous." I muttered. A few people laughed.

"Sit down already, Max! I want to get to know this 'premonition of an interesting person!'" The person called. This time, I laughed, surprising myself. This guy must have been in my Spanish class.

"Are you sure you want to follow through with that?" I teased, plopping down. The person I had sat next to chortled.

"I think it's too late for me," Sam said, grinning.

"Oh! Hey," I said. I was liking this guy more and more. He just kept popping up. Corliss sat down across from us.

"How are you liking Truman, Max? It been okay so far?" She asked. Before I could reply, she stood up abruptly and started waving. "Hey, Ella! Over here!" I turned around in my seat. And what before my wondering eyes should appear but my sister? She looked flustered, looking around the lunchroom for the source of the voices. Finally, she spotted us and began to head over, having to stop every once in a while to let someone pass. That right there was a prime difference between us. I probably would have just barged right through.

"Whew," She said, once she had reached us, setting her tray down. "This cafeteria is huge."

Corliss shrugged. "You get used to it."

"Hey, why doesn't your sister sit with you? Does she know where you are?" Ella asked, spotting Maeve across the cafeteria.

"No. I mean, yeah. But we don't usually…sit together." Corliss explained.

"Oh." There was an instant lull in the conversation. Oh, Ella.

"Anyway," Corliss said brightly. "How's your first morning here been?" She scooted over to let Ella in.

"Crazy," Ella admitted; "Meh," I said at the same time. Corliss laughed, then looked apologetic.

"Oh, sorry, Ells. Guys, this is Ella. Max's sister."

"We _know, _Cory!" The same guy yelled, laughing. He had dark skin and extremely white teeth. "OMG, do you think we're dumb?" The people on the other end of the table laughed. Some of them, I noticed, were the girls that had been with Lissa when she and I had had our big showdown. They weren't giving me the evil eye, though, so it was all good.

"Do you want me to answer that?" Corliss replied. She turned back to Ella and I. "That's Rush. He's an idiot."

"I gathered." I said dryly. Rush laughed again, then waggled his index finger at me. He was extremely handsome, even though just then he had reminded me of my mother. He also seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood.

"Uh-uh, girlfriend. You seem like one of those attitude-y people. We're in for some trouble." He smiled to show me he was joking.

"Attitide-y?" I said.

"Ah, see, there we go. Attitide-y." I fought back a laugh (I had laughed quite enough for one morning) and grinned at him instead.

"Much better." A flash of gleaming white teeth.

"Anyway," Corliss soldiered on. "Max, Ella, that's Erica, Kelsey, Sam, Olive, and Nate." The people in question waved. "You know the idiot." Rush mocked hurt. "Okay, now look over there." We looked over at the table she was pointing to, across the aisle from ours. It was chock-full 'o boys. Very tall, very good-looking boys. "That," She said, pointing to a pale boy with reddish blond hair, "Is Iggy. Ignatious, really, but who wants to be called that? And that," She said, pointing to a dark-haired boy wearing black who I hadn't noticed before. "Is F-Elias. My brother."

Fan-freaking-tastic.

"Excuse me, what is _she _doing here?" A demand, complete with a flip of bright red hair and flashing green eyes.

Even better.

**Who's in trouble, Max or Lissa? Though I'm sure we all know well enough… ;)**

**Remember to review! I'll start writing longer chapters soon; I'm just waiting for the story to pick up a little. -M**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys! Before we start I just want to thank a few people: **

**To my followers, people who have favorited the story, and reviewers: **

**ALICEGOMES, 1ssum, Ang3lofdarkn355, MRFL, MissunderstoodPoet, RJtheBookLover, Shygirl28, The Dreamer7778, TwixGirl1212, WeirdUnicorn2.0, Yay Go explosives, YetiTech, Zda92601, buffy18a, superstormkatie, swords362, tesaxton, vampirehunter17, Bookwriter16, GreenDragon213, PortlandChinaDoll, Thrullsmash, Vanitas' Queen21, runforcoverrrs, and WorstBookshelfEver. **

**Special thank you to WorstBookshelfEver for reviewing with always inspiring and thoughtful reviews, and to runforcoverrrs, who has helped the story along a lot with their support and constructive criticism. Remember, guys...don't be afraid to lay it on me! I can take it and will do whatever it takes to improve the story. Unless you think I should delete it, in which case you're probably in the wrong place. :/ **

**Uh, I've kinda slipped on the disclaimer thing. So, here it is. Here are the disclaimers, beginning on Chapter 12. I'm proud of me, are you?**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Maximum Ride except for this story and the credit for spreading the joy of the series to all. **

**Copyright thingy: I DO own, however, these characters: Corliss, Maeve, Erica, Kelsey, Olive, Nate, Rush, and Violet. **

**Random Maro Fact: I like things super neat but in reality am an extremely sloppy person. So I'm often very frustrated with myself; I can't STAND to have a messy room but I'm too lazy to clean it up. GOD, M! Get it together!**

**Also, I accidentally poured orange juice into my cereal this morning and proceeded to eat it anyway. I mean, I was gonna have juice anyway so...it all looks the same inside your stomach!**

**Sorry, I guess maybe that was kind of gross.**

**Alright, I know this is a really long AN, but I wanted to thank all the people who have been supporting my story and reviewing because I really do appreciate it. You can always pm me as well as review if you have any questions or concerns about the story or maybe just want to talk about the series or other stuff, that's fine too!**

**Okay, finally...without further ado...I give you...Chapter 13!**

I whirled around to face Lissa, who was standing at the end of the lunch table glaring down at us. A tall, gorgeous, dark-skinned girl was standing a little behind her, a slightly anxious expression on her face. It was almost as though she was expecting Lissa to faint from anger and she was there to catch her.

"Look," I said coldly before the Queen Bee could speak. I _so _wanted to just punch her right in her pretty little face. "I'm _still_ not sure exactly what your problem is—" Here Corliss caught my eye and shook her head once, hard. _Huh? _"—But," I continued valiantly, "I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. Or something." I glanced at Corliss again, confused as to why she had cut me off, and frustrated about having the word _sorry _slip out so easily. She nodded.

Lissa took a deep breath and blew it out sharply through her nose. The girl standing behind her looked alarmed and extended her arms slightly. Hm. _Interesting. Wonder what that's about._ Lissa crossed her arms and shook her hair back, green eyes shining with disdain. "Whatever," She said impatiently. "I've been having a hard time. Okay?" She turned to Corliss. "Sorry if I was a bitch to your sister, I guess. I didn't really mean it." She said.

To Hell she didn't mean it. _Riiight. _I held my tongue though, something I'm still proud of…hey, you know what? Forget what I just said. All of it. Because really, who am I to say she didn't mean it? She didn't seem sincere, but then I didn't know her. And anyway, sometimes taking the high road gets you where you're going fastest.

"It's okay," Corliss said, reaching out for a hug. Lissa hugged her back. "I understand." Now I was really curious. Some investigating may have been in order.

"Um, so, Cory, we were just thinking about going over to Coach's office," The tall girl who had arrived with Lissa said, shooting the words rapidly out of her mouth. It was almost like she was singing them. I realized then that she had been bursting to speak the entire time. "And seeing if we could sign up for tryouts, because you can never get started too early, right? And anyway we'll have more of a shot if we sign up now because we'll be at the top of the sophomore list, and everyone knows that if you're at the top, you go first, and if you're at the bottom you go—"

"—Yup, got it. Thanks, Moni." Corliss laughed. "I'm coming. Oh, wait, Ella. Wanna come with us? Max?"

"Of course!" My sister bounced up from her place at the table, quickly gathering her things and stacking them into her Backpurse.

"Sign up for what?" I asked around a spoonful of pudding, putting my hand over my mouth so no one would be sprayed with chocolatey goodness. Lissa rolled her eyes. I was getting really tired of seeing that girl's whites all the time.

"Cheer!" The three girls chorused. Lissa just stood there, thrumming her long fingernails on the cafeteria table. She occasionally glanced over her shoulder and smiled at something. I leaned back automatically in my seat to see what it was she was looking at, only to be met with the gaze of TDa—Oh, Elias, right. Corliss's brother. Freaking Frick-Frack. I looked away so quickly I felt a bone in my neck crack.

"Max? Hello? Signups?" Ella waved her hand in front of my face teasingly, knowing full well that wild horses couldn't drag me to _cheerleading _signups.

"No, I said before I could stop myself. "No way." In my lifetime, a full 15-and-a-half years, I had been to exactly one football game and experienced the extremely sexist phenomenon known as a cheerleader. And I still get headaches thinking about it. So no, this wouldn't exactly be my cup of tea. Actually, I was surprised that Corliss was into it.

Corliss looked at me with disapproval for the first time. "It's not what you're thinking, Max," She said as though she were reading my mind. "There's a lot more to it than that."

"Still. No thanks," I said. "I believe you, though. I didn't mean to jump to conclusions."

"It's fine. Sorry. I'm just used to my sister's attitude."

I raised an eyebrow.

Before Corliss could elaborate, the tall girl jumped in again, dying to have her share in the conversation. Or any conversation, maybe.

"You're Ella's sister, right?" She asked excitedly, her eyes wide and her smile huge. "You're in my Spanish class! Which is cool because I have no idea what I'm doing in that class and maybe you can help m—" Corliss clapped a tiny hand over the girl's mouth, stopping the flow of what seemed like one endless sentence. She pried the hand off her face. "Um, anyway," She said sheepishly. "I'm Monique."

"Max." I don't think I had ever said my own name as often as I did that day.

Corliss checked her little silver wristwatch. "We better go if we're gonna make it. Lunch ends in 8 minutes." Ella slung her Backpurse over her shoulder.

"Let's go."

"_Fi_nally," Lissa exhaled, standing up straight and beginning to walk away without so much as a goodbye. I watched her give a teasing smile to the boys at the table next to us. A pair of dark eyes watched her go by.

"See you later, Max." Corliss stepped in front of me, breaking my gaze at the interaction between my two least favorite people so far. She smiled at me and waved, then turned to hurry after her fellow potential cheermates. I watched them push open the large cafeteria doors and step out into the hall, feeling a strange twang of sadness as Ella laughed wholeheartedly at something Lissa said. Then the doors swung shut and they were gone.

**I know I didn't give you guys the Max-disses-Lissa-in-front-of-the-whole-school-thing, and I know that's probably what a lot of you wanted. But honestly, I'm sick and tired of the cliché Lissa character, where she's just a total dumb biatch who's in love with Fang and hate's Max's guts. That's actually a little of what I'm doing, but I just wanted to take that and make it more realistic. I know most of us probably hate Lissa for "trying to steal Fang," me included. I thought she was gross. But honestly, I'm tired of her being portrayed as a total psychopath. So this is Lissa the way I picture her (if she's not, in fact, a totally decent person. I mean, do we really know?) **

**I mean no disrespect towards the people who like Lissa the way I'm trying to avoid making her, because those stories are definitely fun to read. This is just my opinion. :] **

**Please remember to review! Just push that button down there and give me a shout. Likes, dislikes, comments, questions…anything that has at least a spark of positivity, please. THANK YOU for being awesome and letting me know what's on your mind. And yes, I AM going to update tomorrow, hopefully, since this was such a short filler chapter. **

**YOUR FEEDBACK IS MY FUEL, **

**Maro**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm baaaaack! Enjoy or else. :)**

I slouched into Algebra 2 about three seconds before the bell rang, harshly letting us know that lunch was over and it was time to get back to tortu—what? No. I meant _work. _Yeah, work. Pssh.

And so, there I was, in a class that I had somehow tested into last year while I was still in good ol' Algebra 1. Apparently if you get a C minus in 9th Grade you _still _qualify for the next level in 10th. Boy oh boy, was I excited.

I scanned the room quickly as I walked towards the desks, a quarter of which had already been filled. I spotted Cor—_Maeve_—in the back corner and began to weave through the aisles, dodging backpacks that had been haphazardly thrown on the floor. I plopped myself in the desk to her right, noting the blond boy who had been sitting with her in the lunchroom was flopped in the seat in front of her. Maeve had her eyes shut and her hood up. She was almost swallowed by her humongous sweatshirt. It was a pool of black, dripping down over her seat. As I watched her in a totally non-creepy way, more people had filed in and taken their respective seats. A distraught-looking teacher emerged from a small supply closet at the front of the classroom, gray hair barely pinned down by bobby pins of various shapes and sizes.

"Where on earth—" She muttered, loud enough so we all could hear, shuffling through an impressive stack of papers that were sitting on her desk. After about 3 minutes of shuffling and muttering, she stood up straight to address the class. "Well, sorry, guys. I know you're going to hate this, but…"

"Oh, no." Someone groaned. "Pop quiz?" The guy in front of Maeve turned around in his seat. Next to me, Maeve cracked an eye open, and a flicker of a grin passed across her face. The guy snorted with laughter and turned back around. Huh.

"Close, Dev," The teacher said, smiling out at the boy who had spoken. "Unfortunately, I have managed to lose today's lesson plan. So you all,"—Here she produced a stack of papers from behind her back—"Get to do a worksheet. Doesn't that sound like fun?" The class cheered. Obviously, a worksheet was as easy as it got in this class. "Oh, but wait. Here's the catch," She said, smiling evilly. Yes, really. Evilly. "This is, as Dev so helpfully suggested, going to be a pop quiz." Cue loud groans from all corners of the classroom, except for mine. "So," The teacher continued, "No helping your neighbors! I mean it! I deduct your grade by three letter points if you cheat. You know the rules."

"What if we get an F?" A girl two seats away from me asked, hand raised.

"Amie, we covered negatives last unit."

The girl looked horrified.

"Well, does that answer your question?"

Amie mutely nodded yes.

"Good," The teacher said crisply. "No further questions?"

A few mutters of "no" dotted the classroom.

"Excellent." And with that, she began to pass out the worksheets. As she put mine on my desk, I realized two things. 1, that she hadn't tried to make me introduce myself in front of the whole class and probably didn't particularly care about who I was or where I had come from, and 2, that I was totally screwed.

"Alright, please pass your papers to the person sitting on your left hand side. Those who are sitting on the far left, please get your papers to the person on the far right of your row. We'll be grading in a moment." The teacher said, cutting off the last scratching pencils and stifled groans. I wordlessly passed my paper to Maeve, and accepted a paper from the girl sitting to my right.

I won't bore you with the answers, and I definitely won't go over my score, because when Maeve handed my test back to me all I could see was red. Literally. The page was full of red marks from aaaall the things I had gotten wrong. I thumped my head against my desk. I didn't have much time for a pity party, though, because the next thing I knew I was being called up to the teacher's desk. She was leaning against it, rifling through some papers that looked vaguely familiar.

"Maximum Ride Martinez?" She asked, holding out her hand. I took it. "Kelley Holland."

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking her hand firmly. Man, she had a strong grip!

"No, it isn't," She said abruptly. "I'm your math teacher; I'm here to torture you. But it was kind of you to say so." I was startled into a laugh.

"You're very welcome,'' I teased. I was warming up to this schoo—No, I still hated it. _Haaaated _it. Yeah.

"I asked you up here because I have only just realized that you may have been somewhat…completely unprepared for the pop quiz."

"Yeah, somewhat," I agreed.

"So I am here to let you know that this quiz, and _only _this quiz, Miss Martinez, will not count toward your semester grade. But this is the only break you'll get. Do I make myself quite clear?"

"Crystal," I said, feeling as though I should salute or something. "And thank you," I added, never one to forget my manners.

Ha. Fuh-_nee. _

"I expected no less," She said. Then she smiled warmly at me. "Now please grab yourself a textbook from the back of the class. Individual classwork, pages 382-407. Explanations are in the back. Happy solving."

I should have known it was too good to be true.

My mind hurt. You know how, if you exercise a muscle too much or too often, it gets super sore and you feel like you never want to have to use it again? Well, that was how it felt to be in that class. Except instead of a muscle in your leg or something, it was my brain. And instead of sometimes, it was _all the freakin' time. _You know you're struggling when you feel like you need a personal strainer for your brain. Although…I don't think any personal trainer of any kind could have prepared me for the turn this class period was about to take.

"Mave. Maven. Wake up," The blond guy whispered sharply, so that his voice cut through the thick clouds that were obscuring the answers to the problems from my mind. He poked her with his pencil. The eraser, then the point. She didn't stir. He shook her a little, and her head rolled back, the hood of her sweatshirt falling down her back with her dark hair. I noticed it was streaked with a dark, midnight blue. But when I saw her face…

Her eyes were rolled back in her head, with only the whites visible, and her face was as gray as ash. I couldn't help it; I gasped a little. 

"Oh, My God." The boy said, panicked. "Maven! Mave!"

"What's going on?" Ms. Holland said from the front of the class.

"Something's wrong with her!" I spoke for the first time. "She needs help." The rest of the class turned in their seats and…pretty much freaked out. Ms. Holland took one look and made a beeline towards the prone girl, barking orders at everyone to stay calm; panic wouldn't help anyone.

The boy looked at me then, determination starting to settle in over his previously panicked expression. "Go get her sister," He commanded.

"What?" I said, not sure I had heard right. Someone was already dialing 911, why did we need Corliss?

"GO GET HER SISTER!" He yelled. That was enough for me. I sprinted out of the room and down the hallway, almost colliding with the very person I had been ordered to retrieve.

"Where?" Corliss demanded. I ran back down the hall, Cory hot on my heels, until we reached the door.

"Go in," I said. "I'm staying here for the ER people." She wordlessly swung the door open, full force, almost smacking me with it, and raced inside. Not long after, some guys with a stretcher came running down the hall. I pointed them in through the door, and as they went in, most of the class poured out, led by Ms. Holland, who nodded at me to follow suit as they headed down the hall and away from the madness, whispering fervently.

Because I do so well with respecting authority, I stayed behind.

I could hear the panic inside the classroom from where I stood in the hall.

"No!" My ears perked, Corliss was yelling at someone. "She doesn't need an ambulance!"

"They said it's outside already,"I recognized the blond boy's voice. "They need to make sure nothing's really wrong! What's the matter with you? What if she's seriously hurt?"

"The thing that's _wrong _with her," Corliss said, voice dripping with irritation, 'Is the same thing that's wrong with me. _Nothing._ It was stupid of you to call an ambulance."

"Stupid of me?" Now yelling. "So it was stupid of me to care?"

"You care too much about her, and you know it!" Corliss yelled back.

Pause.

"I don't understand why you're fighting me on this." The boy said harshly.

"You never will."

"Can you both shut up? I have a crash headache, and I can't hear myself think when you yell." The last voice was a tired-sounding, slightly lower version of Corliss's voice.

Silence.

Then a stretcher guy spoke, sounding really excited that his charge wasn't dead yet. "Miss, can you move? Can you please follow my finger with your eyes?"

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Corliss's twin said crankily. "Move or follow your finger?"

"Finger, please."

Long pause.

"Okay, now please wiggle your fingers."

"For God's sake," She snapped. "I can just get up."

"We can't advise that, miss."

"Well, then don't tell your supervisor."

"Well—" Hesitation. "If you feel like you can stand, miss, it's worth a try."

Extreeeemely long pause.

"See? She's fine," Corliss said.

"I'm sorry, miss. You can stand, but you'll still have to come with us for testing."

"What?" Maeve cried. "But I fainted! I didn't have a heart attack!"

"It could be any number of things, miss."

"Are you serious?"

"'M'afraid so, miss."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Sorry, mi—sorry."

"You should come too," The other stretcher guy said. "Are you her sister?" I assume he was asking Corliss, but hey, I could be wrong.

"No, we're just good friends," Maeve snapped.

"Okay, okay, sheesh. No need for that."

"Yes, I agree. There's no need for me to go to the hospital because I'm _fine._"

"Sorry, miss. Would you like to walk outside or be carried?"

"I'd like to hang on to the last shred of dignity I have left."

"So is that a walk or a carry, miss?"

"Jesus. I'll walk."

A few seconds later, the door was pulled open, and a stretcher guy emerged from the room, followed by Cory and Maeve, who was trying to lean against Corliss as subtly as possible. She frowned when she saw me, but shrugged a little and kept walking, her brow still sweaty and her face still as white as winter.

**So, there you go! I made it pretty longish, I hope. This chapter is extreme foreshadowing for much of the story, so be exited! YAAAY! :D**

**Yeah, so… Two weeks of school completed! Have any of you guys started yet? If not, hang onto your summer…**

**Have any of you guys heard about the drought in California? I don't know how many of you live in the U.S, but it's pretty freaky for us over here. Hopefully El Nino will solve it all…?**

**So, any thoughts, questions, concerns, stories you might wanna share…hit that review button and lemme know what's on your mind. Remember, I LOVE constructive crisitcism, and even just knowing that you guys are liking the story makes me super happy. So PLEASE REVIEW!**

**-M**


	15. Chapter 15

**It's been awhile.**

"Hi, Max."

I looked up. "Hey!" Corliss smiled a little half-smile.

"What's up?" She let her bag slide off her arm, and it made a thunking noise as it hit the floor, echoing throughout the library.

"Not my grades," I muttered. "I just found out from Sam that we have a Spanish test tomorrow, and…well, I just found out about it, so you get the picture." Cory groaned as she slid into a wooden chair opposite me. The library was nearly empty, and her voice sounded extra loud. It was 6:16 pm and I was nowhere near being done with my homework. Monday seemed to be the workload free-for-all for my teachers. I was waiting for Ella, who was talking to the cheer coach about tryouts. "Have you seen Ella?"

"Yeah, I just ran into her. She's talking to the coach." _What could they possibly have left to talk about?_ I wondered. _Were they going over the entire history of cheer, or something? _I thunked my head down on the table.

"Long wait, huh?"

"You can say that again," I said into my arm. I raised my head, remembering something. "Hey, how's your sister? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Corliss said, flipping through my history textbook. "She's got a hard head." I noticed she was avoiding my eyes.

"Is she coming back to school soon?" I asked. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking." Maeve hadn't been in Algebra today.

"Tomorrow, I think. She's actually fine right now, but our mom's kind of a freak with these things. She made Mave have a brain scan and everything."

"Wow." I thought about my own mom. She could get pretty worried, but if Ella or I could walk straight after a blow to the head, she probably wouldn't sweat it that much. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting for soccer practice to be over," she said, rolling her eyes. Then she seemed to remember that I played soccer and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oop! Sorry, Max," she giggled. "It's just that waiting is pretty boring." But I was focused on something else.

"Soccer practice?"

"Well, It's more like conditioning. I think. The season hasn't started yet, not even close. Mave's just watching today, because her coach is crazy and makes everyone come no matter what." I couldn't really focus on what Corliss was saying, because I had just been shaken by a tremor of fear. Had I missed tryouts?

"Don't worry, you haven't missed tryouts."

And there was Maeve, standing in the ornate wooden arch that led out from the library to the hall. She had answered my unasked question without hesitation…how? She looked pretty glum, nodding a hello to her sister. I guessed I would too, though, if I had been restricted from playing.

"My…coach heard you played. I don't know how. He wants you to come down and watch the rest of practice."

"Right now?" I asked stupidly. Maeve sighed impatiently.

"Yeah."

I stood up. "Um, It's just…I have to wait for my sister…" I turned to Corliss, about to ask if she would wait for Ell and tell her where I was.

"You got it," she said cheerfully, giving me a thumbs-up before the words could leave my mouth. "I have some homework to get done anyways."

I nodded slowly. "Okay…thanks." These guys were…odd.

"No problem." Corliss cracked open my history textbook. "I'm using your textbook, though. You can leave your stuff here."

I nodded again, and trotted after Maeve, who was already halfway out the door. Soon we were striding down the empty 2nd floor hall.

Until we weren't.

Maeve doubled over, clutching at her head and sinking to the ground.

"Oh, my God!" I said, panicked. I knelt quickly to the ground next to her. And it was over as soon as it had started.

"Ugghhh…" Maeve slowly got to her feet, using the wall as support. I grabbed her forearms and helped to gently haul her up.

"Are you okay?"

She didn't answer.

"…Maeve?"

She turned to look at me, and her dark eyes met mine. "We need to get to the practice field." She whispered.

"What?"

"Now." And she took off. I sped after her. This was _not _a good idea. I needed to catch her, make sure she was actually okay. But she was _quick. _I only caught up to her when she had reached the bottom of the 1st floor staircase, and grabbed her shoulder. She spun around.

"Listen," I started, panting lightly. "I know you're in a hurry, but I really need to make sure you're o—"

"That's not what this is about!" She snapped. "You don't get it!"

"No, I don't." I replied calmly. "But what I _do _understand is that you need to take two minutes out of your _extremely _busy schedule, and let me help you. It'll just take a minute. Please. My mom's a doctor, I know what to do."

"Yeah, well, so's mine! And I don't care if your mom's the freaking _president! _I need to get down there!" She raced down the few remaining steps and out the double doors that led to the courtyards. I followed her, weaving around freshly varnished picnic tables until we reached the steps that led down to the practice field. Maeve sped onto the field. I was just a few steps behind when she stopped and looked around. She seemed…confused.

"Maven! Are you serious right now? You're not supposed to be running!" The coach was jogging towards us, managing to look anxious and angry at the same time.

"Where's Fiona?" Maeve asked, looking around frantically.

"Fiona? She's sitting out for a bit. Nasty fall. She'll be fine. Just a bad bump on the leg." Maeve finally located her teammate sitting on a bench across the field. She was wincing a little from the pain, but otherwise looked perfectly fine to me. Fiona waved. Maeve turned back to her coach.

"But I thought…"

"You _thought _you could try and convince me you were fine by running down here. I'll have you know, Eberhardt, I won't be swayed." The coach waved a hand towards the bench Fiona was sitting on. "Now go sit."

Maeve looked like me in Algebra class, confused as hell and willing to just do what she was told, since she wasn't getting anywhere anyway. She sat, frowning deeply. Even her freckles frowned. The coach looked at me for the first time. "You must be Maximum!"

"Just Max," I told him, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"And you!" he said enthusiastically. "You're going to try out, I hope?"

"Oh, definitely." I assured him.

"Good, good. I've heard good things about you, Miss Max. Will you be able to show up after school Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays for conditioning? We go from 3:30 till—" He checked his watch and raised his eyebrows. "—Now." He blew his whistle out across the wide practice field, where a dozen or so girls were engaged in some intricate passing drill. "Everybody in! Time's up!" To my surprise (and pleasure) the girls, though their faces were tomato-red from exertion, didn't jog in to meet their coach. They sprinted, as hard and fast as they could. Maeve and Fiona were walking slowly over to join us.

"Good practice. Nice job out there, Maggie. You too, Sage." He nodded to a brunette with a white brace wrapped around her knee and a tall redhead with neon green cleats that clashed magnificently with her hair. A few of the girls had noticed my presence and smiled at me. Sage grinned and wiped sweat from her brow. "Remember, no practice Wednesday. They're doing construction around the field." The coach looked at me. "Forgot to tell you that, newbie. You got it?"

"Got it, coach," I replied, to the light snickering of a few of the girls that were silenced by the coach with his next comment:

"I like your attitude, Maximum. Okay, girls, let's break and hit the showers."

The girls stuck their hands in, grabbing the forearm of the person whose arm was to the right of theirs, until it was a web of arms. I stuck my arm in for good measure, and was weaved into the web. I felt a rush of something just then, and I still can't tell you what it was, not exactly. It was a feeling I could imagine getting if I were ever able to fly.

"TEMPEST ON THREE!" One girl yelled, startling me out of my thoughts. She was one of the tallest of the gathering, and the arm she held was enclosed in a pair of black goalie gloves. "ONE! TWO! THREE!"

"TEMPEST!" The girls and I chorused. And for the first time since moving to L.A. I felt at home.

**Finally! I was starting to wonder if I'd ever write another chapter again! Yay. I **_**am **_**sorry, though. I've just had a ton going on. **

**This chapter isn't super important, per se, but it's here. It's filler, I suppose. Yes, let's just go with that. :)**

**In other news, I've been thinking about doing another story alongside this one (they have nothing to do with each other; I just like to multitask) that brings the worlds of MR and Jane Austen together. Sounds bizarre, no? Yes. Yes it does. But listen. **

_**Pride and Pejudice. Maximum Ride.**_

_**RIDE AND PREJUDICE! MAXIMUM PRIDE! **_

**Anyway, just wanted to know what you guys think of this. I think only one story that's sorta like this is out right now, but I want to put my own spin on it. I have all the characters planned out and it's crazy; it's like these worlds were made for each other. Except they weren't. Not even close. Are any of you interested? Let me know!**

**And I'm totally still doing this story. The new one will just be on the side. RIDE AND PREJUDICE FOR THE WIN! (Also, please please please don't copy the name. I've been trying to make this project work so I really don't want to have the idea stolen straightaway.)**

**Thanks for reading, and for any time you may take to review! Much loveee 3**

**YOUR FEEDBACK IS MY FUEL,**

**Maro**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey hey hey! Here's a quickie for ya ;)**

About a 15 minutes later, Ella finally showed. I had headed back up to the library, Maeve in tow, after a quick conversation with the coach about the next meet. She was waiting with Corliss, and they were both immersed in their Algebra 2 homework.

I hadn't even gotten past the second problem. Well, what can I say? Another day, another D minus.

But guess who else was there? Lounging in a cushy black chair, flipping through a book like he owned the place? You guessed it. I didn't even spot him at first; he blended into the chair like…like a chameleon on a…a surface(whatever) in his all-black ensemble. He glanced up at me, looking uninterested. Actually, he didn't really look anything. His face gave away no emotion whatsoever. I stared back at him, hard, until he looked away, a little smile playing about his lips. Was he _laughing _at me? I drew myself up and crossed my arms.

"Let's go, Ells." Ella jumped a little in her seat.

"Oh, hey, Max," my sister said, quickly gathering up her stuff and shoving the lot into her backpurse. I waited impatiently as she zipped it up and buttoned various cute, unnecessary buttons that hung off it. Elias swung himself out of his seat and thunked his book down on the table, startling Corliss. Jeez, was Algebra really _that _interesting? I couldn't help but look at its title. _Stranger in a Strange Land, _by Robert A. Heinlein.

"What's it about?" I blurted, before I could stop myself. Elias paused.

"It's about a man from Mars," He said slowly, looking at me almost thoughtfully. His voice was deep, like rich, dark chocolate. "It's set in the future." His eyes were so dark I couldn't see the end of them. They were black holes, pulling me in. I wanted to be pulled in. "We bring him to Earth, to teach him our ways, but instead he teaches us his. He teaches humans how to love."

"Is it, um, is the…" Come on, Max! Pull yourself together! You're making yourself look like an idiot!

"It's a good book." He looked almost embarrassed, like he had revealed too much about himself in too little time. His face shut down again almost immediately.

Corliss had her eyebrows raised, and I tried to catch her eye. _What? _She shook her head slowly and refused to meet my gaze, neatly stacking her books and transferring them to her backpack. "I'm ready to go."

"Okay, let's go." Maeve began to head out the door. Elias followed her, slinging a black backpack that looked like it was filled with bricks easily over his shoulder. Corliss gave me a quick hug, then hugged Ella, promising to text her the tryout routine information. She gave me a little crooked grin before jogging after her siblings. There was something in that grin, a_ knowing _of some sort. I didn't know what it was, and I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to find out.

God knows I would soon enough.

**Hi guys! Do you smell that? There's something brewing….Could it be LOVE? I'll let you decide. :) Anyway, I know, it's pretty short. But I'm TIRED. If I get enough reviews though, there is talk of another chapter tomorrow! Well, talk in my head. Nobody else cares that much. But still! Please take a minute to hit that button and type your thoughts! Thanks for reading!**

**YOUR FEEDBACK IS MY FUEL,**

**Maro**


	17. Chapter 17

**Surprise! Um, Happy Thanksgiving? Belatedly? Unless you don't celebrate Thanksgiving…uh. Happy…FRIDAY!**

"Ella, Let's _go._" I exhaled impatiently. It was even later that same evening, and I _still _wasn't home, where as far as I was concerned, I should be. In my nice, warm…sleeping bag.

It wasn't that the day was all bad. No, it was acceptable as far as Fridays go. But I was ready to, you know, get _the hell outta here. _Ella glared up at me from where she was crouched, tying her shoes. She needed no words; she was going as fast as she could and she needed me to shut up. I didn't comply, but I compromised on maybe not nagging so much. _Mayyybe. _

"What did you and the coach talk about?" I asked, as Ella straightened up and hurried to meet my quick stride through the halls. We pushed open the huge wooden double-doors of our school, and were hit by a huge blast of wind. I swear it blew my hair _straight _back. This was something we hadn't been used to in our part of Arizona: temperamental weather conditions. But I was liking it. Wish I could say the same for Ella.

"Great," she muttered, lifting a strand of her hair and letting it fall. I had to laugh; the wind had passed and she _still _looked like she was walking through a wind tunnel. That'll happen if you use hair products in your perfect, straightened hair. "Oh, yeah?" She snapped as I practically wiped tears from my eyes. "Looked it a mirror lately, loser?" I snorted.

"Right, like I care about my hair. My head's still warm. It's doing its job."

"You're impossible."

"I'm here, though. I think the word you're searching for is _improbable._"

She gave me a shove.

"A rare gem? God's gift to humankind?" I tried again, grinning as she attempted to knock me over. I stumbled a little, a surprise to both her and I. I shoved her back, harder. She fell in the street, looking shocked.

"Oh, geez." I couldn't believe I had done that! It hadn't been on purpose. There was not reason to be that mad at Ella. I held out my hand to help her up. I found myself doing that a lot lately. Ella, however, must have taken my comment on my own stupidity as one on her weakness. Or, at least, the weakness that she thought that _I thought _of her. Which wasn't true. I didn't think Ella was weak. Just making bad choices. Like, for instance, cheering. Ignoring my hand, she got up on her own. "Ella, I didn't mean—" She turned away abruptly, and I slowly let my hand drop. I felt terrible. And even worse, I didn't know how to apologize.

….

The walk to the bus stop was a silent one, as was the ride. No conversation was held on the walk home, either. Every time I snuck a glance at Ella, she appeared to be deep in thought. My stomach felt as though it were crawling with guilt. We got to our house, the last on our block. Why couldn't it have been the first? Anything to end the walk as soon as possible. I unlocked the front door, and Ella was inside and up the stairs almost before I could shut the door and lock it. Mom appeared in the entrance to the kitchen, and I could smell spaghetti. "Where's Ella?"

"She's upstairs." I carried my backpack with me past her and into the dining room. My mom followed me.

"Oh," I think she knew there was more, but she didn't press me for it. "Do you two have homework left?" This was one of the things I loved about my mom. She could take any situation and know what to say—or, in this case, what _not _to say. Even if the subject she deferred to was homework.

"Not that much." And I was happy, because this time the little white lie I told every night was actually true.

"Good," Mom smiled. "And…what about Ella?" Her face took on a new look of all seriousness. I knew what she was asking about. So much for her not pressing me for information. But still. She did it in a way that felt as though I could tell her anything and she would accept it. I sighed.

"Ella's mad at me," I began. My mom nodded, waiting. "I did something that upset her. It was an accident," I said hastily. "But I can see why she'd be mad."

"So you understand what's making her upset."

"Yeah."

"And you realize that you made a mistake." I knew where she was going with this.

"Yeah."

"So…" Here it comes… "Why don't you just apologize?"

"I tried to!" I protested. "But she wouldn't listen!"

"No, Max," Mom spoke gently, but firmly. "You just don't know how to apologize."

"Bu—" She held up a hand to stop me.

"You know it's true."

I was silent.

"You _want _to apologize, I see that. You want to make things right. Am I correct?"

Nod.

"And you don't want her to be mad at you, because that makes you feel uncomfortable."

Reluctant nod.

"How are you going to make it better?"

I sighed.

"Max…"

"By talking to Ella," I muttered under my breath, low enough so that Mom couldn't hear.

"Hm?"

"By talking to her." Louder this time.

"Right on the nose." She kissed my forehead, standing up from her seat beside me. "Do you want any help with your battle plan?"

"No. Thanks," I replied, following her lead and standing up from the folding table we were using as a dining surface. "And really. Thanks." She gave me a hug.

"Any time, sweetheart." She pulled back, her warm brown eyes scanning my face. "You're sure you don't want any help?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling a little. "I'll figure it out."

"I know you will, Max."


	18. Chapter 18

**If anyone's still reading this, hey. I know it's been practically forever and I want to apologize for my horrible updating. I've been having a really hard time for a long time now, and I'm starting to recover so hopefully updates will come more often. I just kind lost inspiration for this story for awhile, and it took a few months to regain it. Well, let's get started! I'm excited. It's like beginning again…**

"Max…I'm sorry about yesterday." I looked up from my cereal in surprise, Ella's voice tearing me out of my thoughts of how _I_ would apologize to _her. _"I shouldn't have gotten so mad…I should have listened to what you had to say. I'm sorry." Ella bit her bottom lip, her eyes downcast as she stood over where I was eating breakfast. What was this? Why was _she _apologizing to _me? _And why was I being such a loser about the whole thing? I stood up from my place at our rickety card table and wrapped my sister in a hug.

"Ells…you don't need to be sorry," I said softly. "I was the one who pushed you over, you don't have to—"

"No, it's not that," Ella said, her voice slightly muffled because her face was pressed up against my shoulder. I stepped away so I wouldn't suffocate her. She bit her lip again. "I was just really upset. You know. Ready to lash out," She looked up at me, her expression showing a hint of irritation. "Not that your stupid comebacks helped any." I bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't laugh.

"I know, I'm horrible," I rolled my eyes, then took on a gentler tone. It was bugging me to see my own flesh and blood so distraught. "So if I wasn't the cause…something must have happened earlier." I looked at her carefully. A red flush bloomed across her tan cheeks as she stared hard at her (admittedly cute) suede booties. Not that I'd ever wear suede. If it ain't waterproof, it ain't worth it.

"It's not a big deal," she said, too casually.

"Uh-huh." I wasn't buying it. But honestly, would you? Ella grew redder. "Oh, no. What'd you do?"

"WellyouknowthatguyIggy?" Ella said, lightening quick. I couldn't catch hald of what she said, and had her repeat it. She still might as well have been speaking Chinese, because I could barely get any of it.

"Do I know _what?_"

Third time: "Oh, yeah. Well, I know who he _is, _anyway."

She mumbled again, her words somehow even more blurred. "You _what?_" Even though I had heard her perfectly that time, I had her say it again because I could barely believe it. My sister, usually great around people, had lost her cool, if only for a moment. My sister, who was normally so relaxed around guys, had been flustered to the point of no return. And that point was to ask this guy, this _Junior _guy, out. Even I knew that was a no-no.

"I don't know what happened!" She wailed, after I had done the appropriate amount of laughing and staring at her disbelievingly. "My brain just fried! I panicked!"

"And you said he's dating _who?_"

"Corliss! He's dating Cory and I totally asked him out _right in front of_ Lissa and Monique and they've probably already told her and ohhh my Goddd…" she trailed off, lost in her own agony.

"_He_ probably told her as well," I commented, realizing how unhelpful that was as soon as I said it.

"Of _course _he has!" Ella sank down into a chair opposite me, thunking her head down on her arms. "Or maybe he hasn't…he's so nice…" she tried to hide it, but I saw the grin. "What was I _thinking…_?"

"The problem is, you weren't," I remarked, clicking the arm that was unsuccessfully hiding the embarrassed grin that she wore. "And I'm starting to think that you're enjoying this. Exactly _how _long have you liked this guy?"

"Since we got here," she said wistfully, raising her head.

"Oh, so as soon as you stepped out the moving van, it hit you: '_I love Ignatius Griffiths.'"_

"Shut up!" she smacked my arm. It didn't hurt. "You know what I meant. Jesus. You're _impossible."_

"Well, excuse me, Ella, but this is where I came in." I rolled my eyes. "I think you're fine. Just explain to Cory that it was all a mistake."

"I wonder why she didn't mention him before," Ella said, ignoring me. "Like, she said, '_There's Ignatius but call him Iggy,' _but she didn't say, '_There's Ignatius, my boyfriend, but everyone calls him Iggy.'_"

"It's not really our business, Ella," I said pointedly. Yawning, I arched my back and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind where Ella was sitting. It was only 10:20. And a Saturday. What was a girl with no previously made plans to do?

"Whatever." Ella got up from her seat and tossed one more stinger over her shoulder before exiting the kitchen. "Thanks for the _help, _Max." She grinned again and stuck out her tongue before stepping over the threshold to the dining area. Ouch.

"Anytime," I called out after her with that irritating need I have to always have the last word. "What would you do without me?" She responded with a loud, rude word. Tsk, tsk. Our mother would be hearing about this.

I shivered a little, my feet bare against the cold hard kitchen floor. I was still in my pajamas, which were basically just a pair of soccer shorts and an All-City Championship tee-shirt my old team was given after winning the soccer tournament that we spent every practice preparing for. God, I missed them. My team, my few friends. More than I would ever admit to my mom, or even Ella. I wouldn't want to bring her down. It was more important that she felt safe, and as away from sorrow as possible, than my getting to share with her all the miseries I secretly harbored concerning the move. Besides, they were bearable.

After a few moments of standing beside my chair, contemplating rhe soggy remains of my cereal, I picked up my bowl and carried it to the sink. Then I headed upstairs, knowing before I even reached it that the seventh step would creak. In my room, I stared at the boxes and boxes that still sat unpacked, lining my walls. There were less of them than there had been a few days ago, but the prospect of unpacking them all was an unhappy one. Si I did what I do best: shoved it out of my mind as I pushed a pile of clothes to the side of my closet and snatched up a pair of clean underwear and a bra. I would shower later. Now, I wanted to explore. I pulled on a pair of dark jeans, and a black long-sleeved shirt that would come in handy in case I got hungry sometime during my adventures (which was almost inevitable) and spilled, I dunno, ketchup on it or something. After pulling on a pair of ratty, battered black Converse that had seen better days, I was good to go and headed out the door. I would realize later that I had forgotten something. I would pay for that. But for now, I was still completely ignorant to that fact. Poor bastard. I took in the sunshine, turning my face to the sky. I loved Saturdays. And this one wasn't near over.

**Guess what! We're so close. SO CLOSE. Close to what, you ask? Why, the FAX of course! The next chapter will change everything… ;)**

**R and R, please! I love you guys.**

**Maro**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey there! I know, really long wait :( I'm sorry about that. I'm just trying to…get my life together :) Anyways, enjoy! New followers, welcome! Old followers, welcome back! **

The soles of my worn, within-an-inch-of-their-lives sneakers slapped against the pavement as I walked down the sun-warmed street of my still relatively new home. We had unpacked a few more boxes, but things still felt weird and alien to me, no matter how little I let on to Ella. Weirdly enough, though, no matter how bizarre it was to pack your backs like you were running out of time and launch yourself into a new state to start a whole new life, I wasn't particularly bothered anymore. I was…even a little excited, maybe? Talk about weird. _People change, Max, _I thought to myself with a dry little smile. Then something hit me, and I slowed to a stop.

I hadn't really given any thought to my old friends, and hadn't gotten any calls, or texts, or even _letters, _for God's sake. Why hadn't I realized this until now? Was I really so busy I had put aside 12 years of my life? I mean, who _does _that? You know what, maybe I was just being paranoid. It hadn't been that long. And yeah, this was the 21st Century, the era of technology and yada yada yada, but my friends were weird. Who knew when they were struck with the need to feel paper against pen rather than skin on harsh, cold keyboard? Letters were coming, I could feel them. Still, I felt crappy. Who just forgets about the people you care most about, after family? Of course, making friends never exactly came easily to me. That was why I, y'know, treasured the ones I had. They were interesting and could make me laugh, which was a feat in itself. We played soccer together, memorized sonnets for English class together, and once we were up in front of the class, forgot immediately and stood up there with nothing to say but "Oops," and nothing to show for it but sheepish grins and an F.

I felt something horrible blooming in the pit of my stomach, and it reached throughout my torso, infecting my chest and throat. It was heavy and weighed me down. I plopped myself down on a bus stop bench and slid my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket. I scrolled through my contacts, searching for the one person whose voice could immediately put me at ease. There was only one problem. She wasn't there.

"What…?" I muttered under my breath, double-checking the list. "Aaron Benitoli, Arianna Clay, Andrew Tolin…" But no Aurelia Robinowitz. I frowned, then exited out of Contacts. Lucky for me and my camera-like mind, I had her number memorized. I quickly dialed it, my thumbs feeling huge and clumsy as the guilt in my stomach grew. I held the phone up to my ear, spastically tapping my foot against the pavement as I waited for her to pick up. _DOOOOT_. _We're sorry, the number you are truing to reach is not available. Plea— _I threw my hands into the air, hitting the End Call button. She either was pissed beyond belief or she just had better things to do than to talk with me. Whatever. The guilt was boiling over into anger. I pushed myself up from my seat on the bench and kept walking in the direction I had been going, my feet hitting the sidewalk much harder than before. Slight pain reverberated throughout my limbs but I didn't care. _Pain is just a message. _I shoved my phone into my pocket. _You can choose to ignore it. _I knew which decision I would make. I zipped up my hoodie, trapping the warm air inside. I took off running. It didn't matter where I was going. I never wanted to get there anyways, and besides, I had nowhere to be. _Good. _I grit my teeth, quickening my pace. _Healing already._

…_._

_I had been running for over an hour. _I was exhausted, my face was throbbing with the effort that had gone into draining the feeling out of me. Those emotions were replaced with something new, something stronger. It felt good. I looked around at my surroundings, wisps of hair sticking to my sweaty face. At some point during the run I had been forced to take off my sweatshirt because of the heat, and now I tightened the knot I had made with the sleeves around my waist. I had stopped in front of a park. It wasn't very crowded, or very big. Its main feature appeared to be the basketball court that stood in the center of it. A couple kids were reclining in the shade of the few trees that dotted the grass. As I got closer, I realized that they weren't actually relaxing. They were dead.

_Hah! _Gotcha! No, yeah. I know. Terrible of me. Very insensitive joke. Anyway, no. They weren't dead, but they certainly were _not_ taking a break from the many hardships in the life of a teenager. They were studying. And as I got even closer, I realized that I knew these crazy, motivated, college-bound party animals. Three heads leaned close together over one of the huge books that were just laying out in the grass as one of them pointed at something. Another head was nowhere near the books, but was instead resting on someone's backpack, eyes closed. It evidently needed a break from all the efforts of Algebra. Two identical, shiny, brown-capped heads snapped up to look at me as I approached.

"Max!" One said gleefully. Another raised their hand in greeting.

"Hi."

"Siddown! What's up? What brings you to this neck of the woods?" Corliss shoved a few books and backpacks aside to make room for me to sit, which I did at her request.

"An ill-advised hour-long run," I informed her, stretching out in the cool grass. "Aaahh." Cory laughed.

"Only you would go running around in this weather, Max," She nudged her sister, who was scribbling intently in a notebook. "And maybe someone else I know."

"I've already reached my quota for the day." Maeve replied, not stopping writing to look up.

"You have a quota?" The boy sitting to her left drawled, trying to sneek a peek at what she was writing over her shoulder. Maeve slammed the book shut abruptly, almost catching his nose. He was the boy she was always working with in Algebra, blond hair and intense blue eyes that could pierce you if you looked too long. Maeve seemed to produce much of the same effect the more time you spent around her, and they were a matched pair, though her eyes were the darkest brown I had ever seen. Today, however, in the sun, they glowed a honeyed color and seemed as deep as the ocean. The same was to be said for Cory, but on Maeve it was striking. Maybe because she never often seemed to look directly at you. The blond boy seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he kept glancing over at her, staring for a just a little longer than most people would. His eyes were soft when he looked at her. Even I could tell. She didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah, and there should be one with how much time I spend with you in one day. Ignoramus," she said, still not looking up. The boy grinned a little to himself, and, lightening fast, snatched her eraser just as she was absent-mindedly reaching for it. Then began a tussle that involved much tickling, which apparently Maeve did not appreciate. I heard the boy yelp in pain more than once. I turned to Corliss.

"Whatcha workin' on?" I asked, not sure if I actually wanted to know, or if I would even understand the answer. Corliss made a face.

"Pre-calc."

"Pre-calc? But you're a sophomore! Why on earth would you do that to yourself?" From behind me where Maeve and the blond guy were still rolling around in the grass, kicking each other relentlessly, I heard the beginnings of a remark that questioned the intelligence of cheerleaders and their course selections before there was a loud thump, then silence. Corliss rolled her eyes.

"Math comes pretty easy to me," Cory shrugged. "It's not a huge deal."

"How many AP classes are you taking?"

Corliss looked at me sheepishly. I raised an eyebrow.

"…Three."

"Holy cannoli, Batman!" I whistled. From lower down, I heard a chortle.

"Something funny?" I asked the lump that had previously been asleep on its stomach. It arose, brushing stray blades of grass off of it's white shirt in the process.

"Not particularly," said Corliss's boyfriend, who was still laughing a little. "It's just…do you _all _talk like this where you come from?"

"Where I come from?" I stared at him. His faded blue eyes weren't looking directly at me; they were focused on a spot to my left. My ear, maybe. "Where do you think I'm from, Venus?" He laughed again, catching Corliss's hand with his. She leaned against his side, picked up a book, and resumed reading.

"No, I've just never met an Arizonian before." He addressed my ear. What could be so interesting about an ear? "Tell me, do they have toilet paper there or is that not a part of your culture?"

"No, we use cacti." By now I had realized what I should have known immediately: Iggy was blind. The eyes should have given it away, but I was too blind—sorry, let me rephrase, I was too _short-sighted _to notice. At least I hadn't asked any stupid questions. Iggy was grinning, and began to open his mouth to ask another ridiculous question when two more people approached, looking tired and sweaty, one with a basketball in his hands. I'll admit, my heart jumped a little, but only with surprise. It was Elias, and it looked s though he hadn't been expecting me either. His face in general gave away nothing, but an eyebrow jumped up a little. Monique stood beside him, tall and glowing from the energy she had exerted. Evidently they had been playing a game, and she had given him a run for his money. Elias set the basketball down. His arm nearing mine. My heart sped up. I must have just been getting hungry, which was justified by what spurted out of my mouth next:

"Why the hell are you wearing black?" I regretted it as soon as I had spoken the words, because I may have just succeeded in engaging him in conversation, which was a big no-no for me right then. I was already having heart palpitations. Man, I really needed to eat. This time, Elias's eyebrow really did raise. He didn't respond though, only looked at me. I rolled my eyes internally. So, I was going to have to have a conversation with a brick wall. What a waste of energy. "I mean," I continued, "It's like 85 degrees outside. Why would you wear black?" His eyebrow stayed up. He had some serious facial muscle control. So, I did the only thing I could think of to do, and raised mine right back at him. There we sat, for a good 15 seconds, neither one of us backing down. Somewhere around the 10-second mark I felt my eyebrow start quivering, but lucky for me, 5 seconds later, Elias broke the cycle. With a grin. It stretched across his face, his teeth gleaming against his olive skin. The world seemed to freeze. And as he leaned forward, just close enough that I was able to see the pupils of his eyes, which I knew were dark like his sisters', I realized I couldn't. I couldn't find the end of his eyes. They were completely black, deep and swirling and pulling me in. And as he whispered something in my ear, I realized I never wanted to.

**Yay! Finally got a little more Max/Fang action. It's not romantic yet; there will be plenty of time for that later ;) Stay tuned for the next update, a chapter from Fang's POV! I love y'all and your reviews make my day. Also please keep in mind that I LOVE criticism! Okay, well, maybe not LOVE it, but I appreciate it. And, as always, any suggestions for the next chapter and chapters after that are always taken into account. R&amp;R, and peace out, my lovelies. Hope to seeya soon.**

**M**


	20. Chapter 20

"Oh, please! You need a break already? Whassamatter? Too much competition?"

Elias Eberhardt grit his teeth in silent frustration. They had been playing for hours and she _still _wasn't tired. Granted, she wasn't _winning, _but it was…a close game. And he had homework to do. He didn't bother to answer her (probably rhetorical) questions of taunt because he knew he'd just get another earful of trash talk. He dribbled the basketball, alternating between hands as he contemplated his next move. His eyes found Monique's, and the worry she held there was evident. A smile threatened to tug at his lips, but he kept his face carefully blank. He had her. Better yet, he had the game.

Like a cobra, he struck with deadly accuracy. He feinted to the left, then pushed off of his left foot. Monique reacted quickly, but not quickly enough—she was caught off-balance by his quick change. He quickly dribbled around her and sped up the court as she attempted to regain her position between him and the net.

She didn't.

Elias smirked with satisfaction as the ball swished cleanly through the net, but making sure to keep his face carefully blank as he turned towards his opponent and held out his hand. "Nice game."

"Thanks," she said grudgingly, shaking his hand. Both immediately wiped them off on their shorts; after two and a half hours of playing in the hot sun they were extremely sweaty. Monique slid the ponytail holder out of her wild curls, wincing as she extracted it from the dark tangled mess. "Great," she muttered. Her hair puffed out in all directions. Elias had to chuckle a little at the expression on her face; she looked like she had stepped in some dog you-know-what. After silently considering something, she sighed and began to tie it back up. Elias jerked his head away from the basketball court, towards where he knew his sisters and the two blond idiots would be sitting.

"Head back?" He asked.

"Sure."

He turned. He froze. He literally _gulped. _There she was. Why was she here? Why did she always tend to turn up? Why was he talking to himself? Why couldn't he stop? He mentally kicked himself. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, took a deep breath. Calmed himself. He opened them. And the sun was glinting off of her hair. _Oh, God. _

She hadn't seen him yet; she was engaged in conversation with Iggy. Something clenched in his chest, and he noticed he was gripping the ball so tightly his knuckles had turned white. She turned around. He dropped it.

She looked so…_shocked _to see him there. It was actually kind of…adorable? He curled his toes inside his converse. His ratty, black converse that his mom had tried to throw away just weeks ago. He metaphorically rounded up his feelings, shoved them into a shiny, black, metaphorical garbage bag, and pushed it down some metaphorical stairs, where he (metaphorically) stomped up and down on it over and over and over and ov—

"Why the hell are you wearing black?"

What?

Oh. Talking. Conversation. Oh. Ohhh. _Ohhh, _no.

The corners of her mouth lifted up and down when she spoke. She was amused. She continued.

"I mean, it's like 85 degrees outside. Why would you wear black?"

He took a moment. Realized he was raising his eyebrow. She probably thought he was an ass. Well, he reflected, he kind of _was _an ass, but he believed in good first impressions. Although…how many times had he run into her before? 5? Okay, so good fifth impressions. They mattered. Wait, but now _she _was raising her eyebrow. It was actually kind of hot. Not adorable at all. They stared at each other. She had freckles on her nose. Lightly sprinkled across the bridge, maybe from long hours in the sun. Corliss had told him that she played soccer. He wondered if she was good. She continued to stare him down, not blinking. She was playing to win. He bet she was good. Really, really good.

Her resolve was beginning to crumble. He could tell. He didn't know how, but he read it in her face. He had never met anyone quite like her before, though Los Angeles was a huge city. He just knew somehow she was going to be different. Or maybe he didn't know, and was just hoping. All he truly knew was that he needed to be closer to her, _right that instant. _Before he knew it, he was grinning, leaning in. _To kiss her? _No, that wouldn't be right. _No, stop it. God. Just…talk to her. _What to say? Her eyes were widening. They were soft and brown, lighter than those of his sisters. Like a, what was it, again? Baby deer. A fawn. Yeah. _Say something. She'll think you're even more bizarre than she already does. She'll pull away. _He glanced down. Her shoes. Converse. High-tops. Worn and black. Positively _ratty. _

She was gazing at him in confusion. He could smell her shampoo. Her skin smelled like coconuts and sweat. He spoke, his mouth feeling dry.

"Nice shoes."

**Heyy! Sorry that took so long. Welcome to new followers/readers! Your new reviews made me smile. :) I know this is a super, super short chapter but I just honestly need to go to bed. And, I might update tomorrow if I get enough reviews! Let me know in your review of any questions or concerns you may have regarding the story, or even suggestions for it! I love to hear from you. And if you take a couple minutes and hit that review button, you might get ANOTHER CHAPTER tomorrow! Wow, such amazing. Well, I'll see you all next chapter, be it tomorrow or next week. Thanks for reading! You are all amazing. **

**M**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello hello, party people! I know it's been awhile, just like it has been every update but I'm just so darn busy all the time, and especially now. The Tech Week for a musical I'm doing this season starts on Monday and everyone is scrambling around all over the place trying to get things done :) It's absolutely crazy and I hope y'all can bear with me until the show is over and…forever after that. Oh well. Please enjoy this extremely short lil thing. It's just more filler…(I know, I know. I need to get to an actual plot. But for now, I'm just enjoying coasting.) Please review! I'm completely serious when I say that your encouragement and even criticism inspires me to write. It just brightens my day. And…you never know…more updates (yes, I said updateS, as in plural ;) may come your way much, much sooner than you'd think…**

I gaped. _Nice shoes? _My brain felt as though it had been cracked open and dropped into a pan to sizzle. Fried. _What the hell was wrong with me? _Better yet, what was with this guy? 'Nice shoes?' Real smooth…

…and then I happened to look down.

Oh.

We had the exact same pair. I had thought he was trying to be sarcastic, and I had grown defensive immediately. I mean, sure, my Chucks had seen better days, but we had been through a lot; My first day of high school, my first kiss, my first punching-of-the-rat-who-tried-to-kiss-me, right in the ol' bread basket. Good times.

He had already pulled away, and was standing around uncomfortably though somehow managing to look purposeful in his stance. It was like…like he didn't want to be there, so out in the open, but if he had to he was going to _do _it, gosh darn it. I don't know. But whatever the scare factor, he had overcome it to talk to me. Which, as you can imagine, pleased me to a great extent. I didn't mind when people found talking to me uncomfortable; in fact, I preferred it. Because the ones who stay, the ones who still want to have a chat even if you're close to bopping them one in the nose or chasing away yourself, those are the people who are most worth talking to. I admired those who took the challenge. I wasn't going to make it easy.

And besides, Elias didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. It was relatively early for a Saturday and his sisters were still here, so why not stay and chat while?

Elias thumped his sweaty self down on the grass, evidently enjoying what coolness it offered despite it being out in the harsh sun. He squinted out over the small park, the sun in his eyes. He didn't bother to turn away, though, and stayed facing me. He wasn't talking, though, and I wasn't about to try and kick start a conversation with One-word-answer Eberhardt here.

By this time, Maeve and James Blond had chilled out to the point where the ticklefight was only a faded memory, and had gone back to "working." I noticed right about then that Maeve was left-handed, whereas Blondie wrote with his right, so their non-working hands were resting dangerously close to one another. I guess Blondie must've felt me staring, and he looked up.

"Hey," he said, sunlight pooling in his deep blue eyes. "You're in my Algebra class." It wasn't a tone of realization. He had known. We had spoken before, but normally it was things like, "When does this class end?" and "Do you have a piece of paper I could borrow?", nothing serious. It was more like he was opening himself to me. I wondered why he hadn't before. Not that it really mattered. God knows I did enough shutting out of people myself.

"Gosh, really?" I widened my eyes. "I've never seen you before in my life!" That got a laugh out of him. He extended his hand to me.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I'm working on being more…" His blue eyes grew bigger. "…open." I took his hand and shook it.

"Forget it," I said, "I was just teasing."

"Yeah, I've been noticing a trend." He grinned. "Is it like a hobby of yours?" I laughed a little. He wasn't far from the truth.

"You could say that," I replied. "I'm Max."

"Gazzy."

Here Maeve interjected.

"No, no. You have to say the whole thing." Her eyes sparkled devilishly.

"I don't," Gazzy sniffed. "Have any idea what you're talking about." Maeve gave him a shove that almost toppled him over.

"C'mon. Say it."

Gazzy (maybe? I didn't know!) sighed a great sigh of defeat.

"Fine." He glared at Maeve, who smiled sweetly back. "You suck," he muttered before turning back to me. "Hello, Max, very nice to meet you, yada yada yada, my name is Gabriel Augustus Lucien Bosco-Neval—" Here he took a breath—"But everyone calls me Gazzy." I felt laughter start to rise in my throat, which only intensified when I took a glance over at Maeve. She had burst into laughter at around the third syllable of Gazzy's name and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon, rolling around in the grass in fits of giggles. It was only when Gazzy kicked her (albeit gently) in the side that she wheezed to a halt in her amusement. That is, until he muttered: "Junior."

Well, that set everybody off.

**R&amp;R :)**

**M**


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